


Laws of Attraction

by Accidentallytechohazardous



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Other, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Strangulation, in the non-sexy way, nonbinary Robin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-06 13:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11037099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidentallytechohazardous/pseuds/Accidentallytechohazardous
Summary: "And sure, Lon’qu is with Robin, and Gaius has no reason to believe they aren’t very happy together, but does Lon’qu have friends here with the rest of the Shepherds? Does Chrom ask for Lon’qu’s opinions or inquire about his life in his homeland the same way that he asks Gaius to show him some of ‘the real world?’ When Lon’qu retires to Robin’s bed, does he fall asleep knowing he is safer and more secure with these people who trust him and care for him than he is anywhere else in the land?"Gaius, man of many skills and zero restraint, decides he needs to give himself the most difficult and unnecessary challenge.





	1. Chapter 1

He’s watching with a casual degree of intense attention. That’s the thing about being a thief, you see- you’re always watching. But you have to play it cool, so it doesn’t seem to other people like you’re spying on them or anything malicious. Though sometimes it’s good to be noticed a little bit too, then people get all paranoid, wondering what you know to be leaning against the doorway and leering like that. Gaius is nothing if not a master of psychological warfare.  


Anyways, Gaius just happens to be doing his people watching, as he is want to do. And it’s only perfect coincidence that he happens to be people watching the Shepherds’ training fields on a particularly warm spring day. The scene is very lovely, with the flowers blooming and the bunnies scampering and whatnot, and a whole lot of skin showing in the flourishing heat. Vaike wastes absolutely no time in disrobing as much as polite company will allow, sweat rolling off tan muscles as he swings his axe jovially. Even Cordelia and Sumia have shed their heavy armor to allow the bare sun to hit their shoulders and uncovered arms. Yes, it’s aesthetically a very good day for people-watching.  


Though the subject that has most captivated Gaius’s attention isn’t the axe-fighter or even the lady knights, as much as a certain surly foreigner who isn’t taking to the heat very well at all.  


Gaius smirks from his perch in the courtyard peach tree, noting that for ten full minutes Lon’qu has been trying to train in shady spots and ignore the stains of sweat dripping down from under his sleeves. Gross. Gaius supposes there’s supposed to be something dignified in how the swordsman pretends the weather isn’t bothering him, but from the flush and damped brow it really does make him look just a little bit pathetic.  


After about fifteen minutes of dripping stubbornly onto the grass, it finally happens. Lon’qu peels off his coat, revealing the white undershirt he was sporting beneath it. Aside from that his torso is bare, revealing toned shoulders and the sculpted plains of his back. Gaius is kicking his feet in the air with interest when Lon’qu turns his body slightly, flashing large pectoral muscles that are barely even contained by the thin shirt at all, and Gaius almost topples backwards out of the tree and onto his head.  


And look. Sure, this may seem pretty bad. But Gaius honestly isn’t the type of guy to go around checking people out like this. It’s only that he has an important scientific query to answer, and this is the only way he’s going to solve this riddle.  


Gaius tightens his focus, dragging his eyes up from Lon’qu’s body with the kind of dedication that is expected of a criminal/Shepherd of his caliber, and sure enough he fines his answer. A dark, red mark on the champion’s neck, just underneath his jaw.

 

* * *

 

It’s no secret that the Ylisse’s royal tactician and Regna Ferox’s premier champion are together. Or, at least, it’s not a secret to anyone with eyes. Which apparently leaves out a whole huge chunk of the population.

Gaius is no stranger to Robin’s antics either. Hell, Gaius is one of Robin’s antics. Since he’s been granted free access to Castle Ylisstol, Gaius has found it exceptionally easy to monkey his way from room to room, climbing up the banister and into Robin’s bed like the romantic hero in one of those saucy novels that Cordelia doesn’t know that Gaius borrows from her.

And if they weren’t breaking the social conventions and playing with fire enough, there’s Chrom to add into the mix. Because Chrom and Robin are inseparable, even in matters of the heart, and Gaius apparently has this embarrassing little soft spot for dashingly handsome princes with wells of kindness in their hearts and a soulful, bone-meltingly sweet glimmer in their eyes. Yes, it turns out the heroes of the realm are all much, much gayer than anyone could have anticipated.

But Lon’qu’s pretty much taken up residence at the forefront of Robin’s attention ever since the end of the war against Gangrel. His time is efficiently divided between Ferox and Ylisse, but as long as Basilio likes his right-hand man building good relations with Chrom’s forces, he’s sticking around.  


Not to mention, of course, Gaius assumes that Robin doesn’t mind having him around either.  


“What’dya think they’re even like, hmm?” Gaius comments to Chrom when they happen to be skirting around the courtyard. It’s Gaius’s turn to take Chrom out to get a taste of the wild life outside of the palace, but he can’t help being distracted.  


Chrom looks over, looking adorable in his best attempt at ‘drab, commoner clothing’, to where Lon’qu and Robin are in the corner of the opposite corridor. Robin has a book open on their lap, apparently trying very hard to engross Lon’qu’s attention in something on the pages. Lon’qu dutifully leans over the tactician’s shoulders, but looks unmoved. Or maybe he’s absorbed and amazed. Gaius has a hard time reading that one.  


“Robin and Lon’qu? You know full well what they’re like. You’ve only given them some of your oddest pet-names.”  


Ah, yes. Bubbles and Bug Boy. Gaius grins, putting his hand on his hip and gently chuffing Chrom on the shoulder. This yields about the same results as gently punching a horse. That is, to say, punching something very sturdy who barely even registers the blow. “Aw, don’t get envious, Blue. You’ll get little ol’ me all to yourself soon enough. I’m just curious how they are, y’know, ‘together.’ Bug Boy’s not exactly the charismatic type, is he? Robin usually takes their tea with a little honey, if you know what I mean.”  


Studying Gaius carefully, Chrom’s eyebrows crinkle a little. Gaius constantly has this unnerving feeling that Chrom is always giving him the benefit of the doubt, so the thief tries not to tread on his patience. Though he knows, rationally and deeply, that Chrom is too sweet and too just to turn on him.  


Finally, Chrom shrugs, and that thoughtful air about him dissipates. “Hard to say what goes on between those two. Perhaps Lon’qu still has trouble feeling that he fits in among the Shepherds, and Robin feels obligated to help him adjust. Robin is always working hard for all of us.”  


“Sure, sure.” Gaius hums, rolling his most recent lollipop around the inside of his cheek. It’s fair to say half of the reasons that the Shepherds get along is because Robin is around for everyone to air their grievances to, and never asks anything in return except for their trust. How they even operated before the tactician appeared out of the blue is a total mystery. Though Gaius can’t imagine Mr. Surly Swordsman over there is the type to cry on Robin’s shoulder.  


He realizes that Chrom is still studying him, and quickly Gaius adjusts his posture with his arms folded behind his head in a casual stretch, leaning all his weight onto one hip. “What?”  


A second passes, and Chrom shakes his head with a smile. “You never cease to surprise me, Gaius. May we continue on our outing now? I think there was some promise of carnival games and ‘anything dipped in sugar’.”  


“And they do mean ‘anything’,” Gaius grins and snakes his hand under Chrom’s coat for a squeeze on the butt and a royally indignant squawk before he strides gallantly ahead. “C’mon, lessgo!” His thoughts don’t return to Robin or their companion for the rest of the night. Gaius has about as much of his hands full with Chrom as he can manage for now.

 

* * *

 

He knows he’s playing a dangerous game. Even Gaius has a heart, and he’s not looking for excuses to have it crushed. He doesn’t need even more stories of getting left behind and tossed away like trash to add to his repertoire of shame and indignity.

Chrom, Mr. Princey-Pants himself, was already far out of Gaius’s league before they had even met. And Gaius could handle it if Chrom was the spoiled, sheltered brat he was supposed to be, all silver spoons and weak handshakes and a glaring sense of entitlement.

And yeah, Chrom is naive to a lot of things in this world. He’s a grown man who has never had to worry about ordinary things like money, or food, or having the loyalty of his peers. Something that Gaius would try to explain to him if it didn’t feel like kicking a puppy. But on the other side of it, Chrom works harder than anybody else Gaius knows, and actively seeks excuses to be challenged.

He’s modest, and kind, and when he hugs Gaius he hugs like no one is ever holding knives behind their back and Gaius isn’t made of sharp corners down to the bones.

Robin is different, more down-to-earth, and that entirely makes them even more intimidating. Because they’re not a royal who has been trained to lead, has no memory of their past that would demand respect from the forces of Ylisse’s finest. They’re honestly just some person who seems totally ordinary until you get to know what’s beneath the surface.

That’s not to say Robin isn’t as kind as Chrom is. They’re both generous and thoughtful, but Gaius thinks it comes from a different place. Chrom is kind because it’s in his nature. He knows nothing else except how to be himself. Robin is kind because they feel compelled to be. Robin puts effort into their kindness, just like they put effort into everything they do.

Strategy. Sacrifice. Mercy. Robin knows all of these things intimately, inside and out.

Gaius’s back arches when Robin’s fingers splay against his back, slender fingers carrying heat through his entire body. Robin knows Gaius’s sweet spots, the places on his back and neck that make his legs go like jelly, and Gaius lets Robin explore him. Kisses press into the freckles on Gaius’s shoulder, each one chaste and discreet, and Gaius is torn between teasing Robin for being such a sap and melting into the pillow. He knows, surely and devotedly, that he doesn’t deserve them.

When Robin pauses, Gaius rolls onto his back with trademark mischievous grin firmly in place. With his arm wrapped around the tactician’s waist and his ankles locked, he quickly flips their positions. Straddling Robin’s hips, Gaius feels hipbones press into his thighs. Robin’s silver hair spills across the pillow, his dark skin flush against the white sheets.  


Robin smiles at him serenely, all half-moon eyes and playful curve on his lips. “Tricky, tricky…”  


They let Gaius drag his fingers up their dark forearms, tracing soft skin until his hands wrap around narrow wrists. Firmly, but gentle. Gaius knows from experience that Robin doesn’t mind getting rough once in awhile, but that’s not what he’s craving today. “Strong words, Grandmaster Tactician.”  


Gaius has never been exceptionally good at keeping a relationship. That kind of comes with his job description- he’s a criminal. Most of his compatriots have been criminals. And everyone Gaius has ever been fond of have always left in the end, leaving nothing behind but memories and questions. Gaius worries what he’d do if someone were to actually stay. The answer to that query can only be found by living the life he’s leading right now. There is only moving forward.

He leans down, chest brushing Robin’s chest, and kisses them. His teeth graze the soft shape of Robin’s bottom lip, and he slides body up to pinch their waist with his legs. He feels something of an unusual, uneven texture brush against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, and when Gaius sits himself up to look he sees deep, angry pink marks around the edge of Robin’s hips. He slides his hands underneath their body and discovers they extend in tracks all the way up his back. Claw marks.  


Gaius grins, while Robin squirms a little bit at the manhandling. “This from your boytoy? Gotta say I’m surprised. Didn’t think he’d get wild like that and scrape you up so bad.”  


Robin tugs at Gaius’s arms to bring him back down, either impatient or uncomfortable with the direction this conversation is taking. “Be nice. Lon’qu _usually_ behaves himself, so don’t go teasing him about this.”  


“What are you talking about? I’m an angel, Bubbles.” Gaius protests, and then lets Robin pull him down by the nape of his neck for a deep kiss.  


When they pull away, Robin is worrying their lip. It’s very cute, and Gaius tries to quell his horniness to let them say what they need to say. “You know that you’re important to me, right? You and Chrom and Lon’qu- all of you are special to me, I can’t possibly compare but I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  


Gaius feels his stomach do flip-flops. Robin’s cheeks are tinted a deep red and their golden eyes are impossibly earnest. The thief can’t help but feel fluttery, raising his brow. “Wow. Okay, I’m hearing ya’. I feel the same way about you, you nerd.”  


“I know. I also know that I’ve been very self-indulgent lately.” Robin grins with their eyes closed and shakes their head. Their short hair fans the pillow like the soft glow of the full moon. “I wouldn’t blame you for getting jealous, and I’d hate myself if I did something to hurt you, Gaius.”  


“Honey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Gaius says, and again the fact that he doesn’t deserve this is hammered into him like his heartbeat in his throat. He’s so lucky. He’s so happy. He doesn’t even care how long this thing, this balancing act between him and his partners go.  


And he’s not jealous. Gaius knows how to share things that aren’t candy. He honestly isn’t bothered. But he’s so perplexed by Robin’s ‘indulgence’, and maybe he does wonder a little bit what it would be like to have scratches down his back.

 

* * *

 

He has a bit more reconnaissance to do before he makes his move. Gaius has a fun time trying to stick around Lon’qu, finding every excuse to tail alongside the swordsman, that he can only imagine that everybody except for Robin and Chrom must be completely confused. Truly, the work of a professional is never done.

Apparently, he’s taking that literally. Because it seems like the only place Lon’qu ever relaxes must be in Robin’s bedroom. Every hour of the day that Gaius can observe, Lon’qu is either training or doing chores around the Shepherds’ garrison. It’s almost spooky, you’d think that people would eventually run out of things to do…

Opportunity finally rises, ironically, thanks to Frederick, who goes through his daily inspection of the armory like a man on a mission. And to him, it probably is.

Gaius is in the main room, idly sharpening a dagger in an appropriately stone cold and badass way while keeping one careful eye on his prey. There aren’t a whole lot of Shepherds in the base this early in the morning. Miriel has taken it upon herself to organize the cluttered collections of tomes, and Stahl is repairing some old spears while trying vainly to engage Lon’qu in conversation.  


“... So Lissa helped me get these rare giant butterfly scales for my brother’s potion. You shoulda seen them, they were really beautiful! Like, all rainbow, but iridescent! I had no idea regular butterflies looked that way up close.” Stahl describes, doing what Gaius assumes is his best to be engaging. All the poor boy gets is a glassy-eyed stare from the Feroxi champion with his arms folded over his chest. Whatever Robin sees in this guy, it’s obviously not his conversational skills.  


The floor seems to rumble ominously as Frederick marches out of the armory, his full armor clanking noisily against his body. His chest expands with a patient breath, before his voice turns severe. “Was anyone aware that we are significantly understocked in weaponry? Someone has burned through our supply of brave swords without replenishing them.” He says this with a tone of disappointment in his voice, like it’s all of their faults.  


Even across the room, Miriel’s clearing of her throat is entirely audible. “As expected. The tomes accrued in this collection are unnervingly unbalanced. In total, we have eight copies of the Arcwind, yet only five of the book of Thoron. Do you comprehend how this reflects on the Shepherd's’ guild of enchanters?”  


This remark earns her a series of blank stares, none of them being particularly adequate magic-users themselves. The sage pushes her glasses up her nose, her eyes fluttering closed as she seems to collect herself to talk to simpletons like them. “They’re _unbalanced_. At the rate through which we are expunging our supply of magic apparatus, we will have depleted our strongest devices and be left with only subpar provisions.”  


“Duly noted, and excellent observation.” Frederick folds his hands behind his back. “Well, that decides it. Someone will need to purchase supplies from the blacksmith and the book store. Any volunteers?”  


Oh, luck, be a lady tonight. Right before Stahl can thoughtfully dedicate his time, Gaius’s hand shoots straight up into the air and waves about wildly. “Right here, Fred! I got nothing else going on today.”  


“Absolutely not.”  


“What?” Gaius springs deftly to his feet, black cape swooshing dramatically behind him. “Why not?”  


Frederick’s eyes narrow by the slightest of possible degrees, brows twitching with a stern frown on his thin lips. He knows, Gaius thinks, that Gaius is involved with both Frederick’s prince and his tactician, which may be a strong reason that Gaius is still allowed to hang out here at all despite his criminal record. “All due respect, Gaius, you are a thief.” He says, as if this is new, shocking information that needs to be absorbed. “Absconding with other people’s money and goods is the entirety of your job description.”  


Gaius has to temper the grin threatening to break out on his face. He jabs both thumbs in the direction of none other than Lon’qu, quietly minding his own business through this entire exchange. “Too true, too true. Then send me with Grumpy Boy over there. He’s all about honor and responsibility, right? He can keep an eye on me.”  


Lon’qu’s facial expression doesn’t change much, which Gaius could have expected, with only a slight raise of the eyebrow to indicate that he heard at all. Frederick turns to the swordmaster, “I suppose that would be fine. Lon’qu, would that be amenable to you?”  


For a minute, Gaius thinks that Lon’qu is going to protest or even just ignore Frederick, if such a thing were even possible. His dark eyes flicker between Gaius and Stahl, who looks uncomfortable under such scrutiny, and he shrugs his shoulder, “Fine.” before standing up. Gaius loves it when a plan comes together.  


Frederick writes them a list of all the things they’ll have to purchase, tied to a small bag of gold with a taut piece of string. Gaius reaches his hand out to receive it, only to be gently pushed away as the bag is handed to Lon’qu.  


“Do you need me to write down directions to the vendors as well?” Frederick asks, all courtesy and well-meaning.  


Lon’qu snorts, eyes looking at the bag of gold in his hand dismissively. Gaius’s fingers twitch compulsively. He’s a changed man and all, but it’s not every day Frederick let’s them dip into the Shepherd’s treasury. Maybe Gaius will have to watch his step after all. “Considering this is an errand for a child and we are two grown men, I think we will be fine.”  


Gaius can see Frederick dutifully holding his tongue, and when both the thief and the swordsman are let loose into the city he has a very good feeling about this.

 

* * *

 

Lon’qu is, as completely expected, quiet through the whole trip to the blacksmiths. Gaius is still thinking of how to handle that.

He considers himself to be pretty charismatic. Hey, who else could charm a bunch of knights and nobility into letting a miscreant like him hang around? Except he knows that’s not really what it is.

Gaius is used to people getting in his face about stuff. About his background, his occupation. Most of the Shepherds take their job protecting the realm with an almost staggering degree of seriousness, so of course when they see Gaius the first thing they see is a threat.

The reason Gaius can get on their good sides isn’t through smooth words or being clever, but instead by being very honest and very much himself. If he can crack a few jokes here and there and just generally come off as being harmless, the Shepherds tolerate him. Hell, they even welcome him. Sully ruffles his hair roughly when she passes, Cordelia reminds him for the last time that if he doesn’t wash his hands regularly he’s going to get sick, and when he inevitably does just that it’s always Lissa, Maribelle, or Libra who is at his bunk with a bowl of hot soup.

As they carve their way through the busy Ylisstol streets, Gaius tries to stay shoulder-to-shoulder with Lon’qu, and finds it surprisingly difficult. Gaius is a pretty nimble guy, what with his penchant for racing around and sneaking and so forth, but Lon’qu crashes through the crowds like a stampeding bull, and his legs are significantly longer than Gaius’s are.

With eyes on the back of Lon’qu’s head, watching the tails of that blue coat flap in the breeze, Gaius wonders if Lon’qu has found a home here in Ylisse the way that Gaius has. From what little Gaius has known about him, Lon’qu’s heart always seemed to belong to Regna Ferox, but that’s not even where he was from originally.

And sure, Lon’qu is with Robin, and Gaius has no reason to believe they aren’t very happy together, but does Lon’qu have friends here with the rest of the Shepherds? Does Chrom ask for Lon’qu’s opinions or inquire about his life in his homeland the same way that he asks Gaius to show him some of ‘the real world?’ When Lon’qu retires to Robin’s bed, does he fall asleep knowing he is safer and more secure with these people who trust him and care for him than he is anywhere else in the land?

Maybe Chrom had a point about Lon’qu needing Robin. And Gaius knows that, even if Robin won’t admit themself, they need to be needed.  


“Nice day out today, huh?” Gaius whistles lowly, finally catching up to Lon’qu and folding his arms behind his back. “Bet they don’t have sunshine like this very much in Ferox.”  


Inwardly, he cringes at himself. Weather talk? Snoozeville. On the other hand, Lon’qu is probably the guy who needs a little time to warm up. Heh. Warm up. Weather humor.  


The aforementioned Lon’qu just grunts. “It’s alright.”  


Gaius kicks it up just one, teeny, tiny notch, testing the waters of conversation. “Reminds me a lil’ bit of when we were in Plegia or Chon’sin. Weird to remember that most folks around here aren’t like you and me, getting to roam all over the world like we do.”  


“I’ve been further.” Lon’qu answers, in a way that sound somehow both bored and cryptic, then increases his speed to brisky leave Gaius in the dust.  


Gaius has a brief internal debate on whether or not to just cut his losses with this one and ditch Lon’qu altogether. But then decides that no, he’s already committed, and he’s yet to back down from an interesting challenge.

By the time Gaius finally catches up, Lon’qu is already at the door of the blacksmith’s shop, and Gaius has to swoop in coolly as if he didn’t just get the walk-away, and is surprised to find Lon’qu hovering around the threshold. His surprise alleviates, however, when Gaius discovers that the blacksmith is a woman, and Lon’qu hands the slip of paper Frederick wrote them to Gaius without another word. He dutifully hands that off to the blacksmith, complete with the official emblem of a Ylissean knight and everything on it, and she leads both Shepherds into the store with an eager waving of her hands.  


“Come in, please, come in! Anything for the allies of our Lord Chrom!” The blacksmith beams, and even with her face covered in soot and a black apron tied around her shoulders, Gaius finds something unnervingly familiar about her. “Here, I think these swords will suit your liking. Very good metal, good condition, too! A little on the pricey side, but that’s what you pay for quality.”  


She waves her hand over a shelf displaying a series of shimmering blades, each one propped up on iron hooks from tip to hilt. Every sword is the color of silver, with only occasional accenting for added detail and character, and has a uniquely and immaculately carved hilt and sheath. In Gaius’s opinion, they look a little gaudier than what Frederick would have wanted, and the price listed under the display cases makes his heart leap into his throat.  


“Sweet criminy.” Gaius winces, feeling a sudden stinging sensation at his sides where his pockets would be. “You call that ‘a little on the pricey side?’ That’s a king’s ransom right there!”  


The red-haired blacksmith waves her hand in the air flippantly. “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing that the royal treasury couldn’t cover! If you need to set up a tab, I’m sure we can- oh, sir? _Sir!_ ”  


Lon’qu has already picked up one of the swords off the rack. He holds it one-handed, using his other hand to unsheath it and expose the flash of bare, naked metal to the light of day. He postures the sword in the air, bending his wrist experimentally with narrow eyes. In his skilled hand, the blade looks far less ornamental and much more like the killing weapon it was meant to be. “It feels… off.”  


The blacksmith whose name Gaius assumes is Anna twitters around Lon’qu at a safe distance. It’s clear that Lon’qu knows what he’s doing, but nobody would willingly get that close to the business end of an undrawn sword in such close quarters. She looks annoyed, wiping the grime off her face with the heel of her hand. “Off? I’m not sure what you mean, but I really must insist that you be careful with those indoors. If you break it, you buy it.”  


“The weight is not right for a sword this size.” Lon’qu explains. He holds the blade up as high as his chest, parallel to the floor. With one hand, he grips the hilt tightly, and with the other he places his index finger and his thumb on the bottom of the blade to support it, checking the balance. “If someone were to use this sword in battle against another longsword, this one would assuredly shatter against a heavier weapon.”  


“It’s lightweight.” The blacksmith/Anna says defensively. Gaius slides around her suavely.  


“Can I have a look?”  


Not even bothering to sheath it, Lon’qu points the blade downwards and hands it to Gaius by the handle. In the passing of weapon from hand to hand, Gaius’s fingers glance against Lon’qu’s knuckles, and an electric tingle travels up his arm for less than a half of a second.  


Then Gaius is holding the sword. He puts his free hand against the flat side of it and holds it up to his eyes for close inspection. “Yeah, this is definitely a dud.”  


The Blacksmith goes almost as red as her hair. “Excuse me?”  


“The metal is impure. Probably steel mixed with a few cheaper materials for padding. That’s why it feels so light.” Gaius says, and is gratified when Lon’qu actually looks surprised to hear this, standing with his arms folded over his chest and his eyes widening just a little bit. Gaius grins and winks at him. “No quality control in the world like a thief. We know how to tell the good shit from the knock-offs.”  


And Gaius swears, for just a second, that Lon’qu’s lips curl up a fraction at the corner of his mouth. Gaius resists the urge to pump his fist in the air victoriously.

He’s distracted by the sound of the blacksmith clearing her throat loudly, and Gaius looks over to see her with her arms folded over her chest and frowning very, very crossly. “Well, if you two gentlemen think you can get better products elsewhere, then I think it’s about time that you leave.” Her voice is a hiss through her teeth, and Gaius suddenly does not want to be holding this apparently very useless but still very expensive sword in his hand. He gingerly hands it back to Lon’qu, who sheaths it wordlessly.  


“... Right. I think our next stop is the bookshop, right, Bug Bo- Lon’qu? We’d better skedaddle.”  


Lon’qu places the sheath back on the display brusquely. “Hopefully that part of the errand won’t be a farce as well-”  


“I totally agree, let’s go, buh-bye!” Gaius rushes out the door before the blacksmith can come up with some non-existent scratch or scar on the sword to charge them for.

 

* * *

 

“Y’know, that was pretty cool what you did back there. The way that you were able to tell that super expensive sword was all jacked up just by holding it.” Gaius says later, when his arms are loaded down with the tomes Miriel had requested, and he’s regretting not suggesting some extra gold for a run to the market while they’re out. “A lotta people probably wouldn’t be able to tell like that.”

Lon’qu is also carrying a bundle of books, although his stack is bound and on his back, and is much larger and heavier-looking than Gaius’s load. He doesn’t say anything right away, still not chatty on this entire outing, but he at least isn’t trying his damndest to outpace Gaius around ever corner. “That’s likely true.”

An uneasy pause. Gaius waits patiently, brown eyes trying not to hover on Lon’qu’s face until the swordsman eventually speaks up again. “... I was impressed by you, as well. You were able to find imperfections in the metal very quickly.”

“Heh. Yeah. Maybe there’s a future for me in banking. Or there would be if most banks in Ylisse didn’t have a poster with my face up on the walls.” Gaius shifts his stack of tomes on his hip. He knows just about nothing on magic, but some of these spells look pretty gnarly. Maybe he’ll have Robin explain all this nonsense about manipulating probability or increasing luck. Could come in handy.

A sour thought occurs to him then, and Gaius scowls as his stomach turns. “Gonna be hard explaining to Mr. The Wary why we don’t have any swords with us.”

“That was hardly our fault.” Lon’qu points out plainly.

“I wish I had your confidence.” Gaius chews on the inside of his cheek, desperately craving something sweet and sugary right now to take his mind off of Frederick’s disapproving, stony stare.

He does, however, find a suitable distraction once he realizes that he has finally bonding with Lon’qu. Now is time to move along to phase two, and internally Gaius is tenting his fingers with mischief. In the real, waking world, he gently nudges Lon’qu with the corner of his elbow.

“Hey, so once we’re done with this, why don’t we catch a break? I’m tired from all this walking and carrying heavy books around, I want something to parch my throat.”

“I’m fine.” Lon’qu remarks tersely. As if Gaius even asked. “Once this is done, I’ll have time for training before supper.”

“Er, well, sure, you could do that.” Gaius says, and he doesn’t hide the disappointment in his voice. He shrugs the books that are balanced on hips. “I was kinda enjoying hanging out with you. For a grouchy guy who plays with bugs, you’re actually pretty easy to get along with. And I assumed that you didn’t mind spending time with me either and getting to look at this pretty face.”

Gaius ends on a smarmy smirk, watching Lon’qu’s dark brown eyes flicker to his face and then away again. Gaius could swear that he saw a trace of dark color rise in the champion’s cheeks, but he’s been wrong before. “Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?”

Ignoring that line of conversation completely, Gaius hops ahead. He turns around to face Lon’qu in his path, making the swordsman stop in his tracks. Gaius is irritatingly at eye-level with Lon’qu’s chin, but fortunately that’s not just a bad view. Nice jawline. “Tell ya’ what- Olivia helped me whip up this killer batch of fruit tarts that I’ve been just dying to dig into all day. After we get back to the barracks and successfully avoid Mr. The Wary’s interrogating, why don’t you pop by my room? You can taste-test my tarts, and after we crack into those bad boys we can train together! I’ll give you a free taste of my unparalleled stealth and speed.”

Lon’qu looks to observe him for a minute. Gaius takes the chance to notice that Lon’qu is, in fact, not bad to look at. Maybe Robin has impeccable taste after all.

Eventually, Lon’qu answers. “I don’t eat sweets.”

“What? Ever?” And just like that, Gaius’s heart is bleeding for this poor man. He puts his hand up to his chest as if he’s been struck. “Good lord, Bug Boy! All the more reason for you to swing by my place, and I’ll teach you _all_ of my tricks.” It goes without saying that Gaius puts a special, suggestive emphasis on ‘all my tricks.’

Lon’qu’s lip does a subtle little twitch, less than even a scowl. His eyes shut like he’s trying to block the entire world, Gaius included, out. “Fine. If it will satisfy you, we can… spend more time together. As long as it’s doing something productive.” His eyes fall back open, this time looking at Gaius plainly. Maybe even contemplatively. “I suppose I am curious how you were able do that trick with the sword metal from earlier.”

“Then it’s a date.” Gaius’s grin is cat-like. This time he doesn’t mind so much when Lon’qu pointedly strides ahead of him, because he can keep his careful, analytical eyes on the stiff, uncomfortable angle of Lon’qu’s shoulders.

 

When they return and hand over the books to be dutifully sorted and organized by Miriel, Gaius only has a limited and unknown amount of time to set up before Lon’qu is sure to appear. They didn’t arrange a time for them to meet, so he has to assume that the swordsman will show up at his door at any given minute, so speed is of the essence here.

Though Gaius is curious about what would happen if he just left the door unlocked, and let Lon’qu enter to find Gaius casually spread across his own bed wearing nothing but a smirk, he has a feeling that won’t get him anywhere in the long run. As funny as that would undoubtedly be, all of Gaius’s intel indicates that Lon’qu has an extremely shy side, so it would be best not to scare him off.

After what feels like ages of setting up, there’s a steady and sure knocking on Gaius’s door. It opens to reveal a stone-faced Lon’qu, and Gaius ushers him in importantly. “So you decided to show up after all, Bug Boy? Glad to see it, didn’t want to think you stood me up or anything.”

Predictably, Lon’qu’s eyes fall off of Gaius and immediately circle across his surroundings. Even Lon’qu’s expression shifts to something akin to disbelief with a slight widening eyes. “Your room is… I don’t know what I expected."

Well, that’s one way to put it. Gaius isn’t a naturally tidy person, for one, though he did take the time to kick his dirty laundry into his trunk and under the bed. The walls are adorned from floor to ceiling, hung with pieces of tapestries and flags and scraps of fabric he’s collected. Anything to make the stone walls look a little less drab. Sealed containers of candy, organized by flavor, are in various positions in the room, just out of the way that there’s no fear of tipping them over, but close enough that Gaius can find everything. Gaius can see how, to the casual observer, it might look like he picked up an entire candy store and turned it inside out in here.

He raises one arm high to the ceiling. “Yes, welcome to the secret abode and all that. Try to temper your shock and awe.” When Lon’qu doesn’t immediately move, Gaius gives him a gratuitous roll of the eyes and juts his chin towards the inside of the room. “Come on in. If you just hover around my doorway like that, people are gonna get the wrong idea.”

That gets him moving. Lon’qu crosses the threshold, and Gaius gestures a small table in the center of the room accompanied by two chairs. The surface of the table is covered by a scrap of fabric serving as a tablecloth, rather plain cast iron tea set, and a plate of fruit tart. “I don’t usually have guests over. Borrowed this stuff from Lissa, actually. She said they have a lotta fancy chairs sitting around for tea time and all that. Make yourself at home!”

Lon’qu reaches for the back of the chair, and Gaius quickly intervenes by yanking it away and pulling the chair out for him. “Oh, do allow me! I’m the host after all.” The look that Lon’qu gives the thief is indescribable, what one can only imagine is a torrid concoction of annoyance and frustration, but eventually he does allow Gaius to seat him.

Once Gaius flits to the opposite side of the table and sinks into his seat, putting his knee up to his chest, Lon’qu attempts to get down to business.

“I still want to know. How were you able to tell that the metal in those swords was imperfect at only a glance?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get to that in a minute.” Gaius says, carefully picking up the fruit tart and wielding it between his finger and his thumb. “First, open wide and say ‘Ahh.’”

“Put that down right now.” Lon’qu, the clever boy, leans away from Gaius. This, however, only invites Gaius to lean over the table, shoving the tart in the direction of the swordsman’s piehole. So begins the ultimate battle of wills.

“Just a bite.”

“No.”

“C’mooooooon! I worked real hard on this.”

“Of all the childish, stupid- Fine! Fine. First, cease shoving your pastry in my face. You have a better chance of taking out my eye than getting that in my mouth, fool.”

Lon’qu succeeds in slapping Gaius’s hand away, though luckily not swatting the fruit tart out of his grip. Gaius grins broadly as he deposits the fruit tart on an ornamental plate, emblazoned with designs that look suspiciously like the royal brand. Seems pretty goche to just stick the symbol of the royal family on any old thing, but what does he know about high class living?

Now, face-to-face with the pastry, Lon’qu eyes it suspiciously. As if might be poisonous. Well, the joke’s on Lon’qu- Gaius may be a master of underhanded tactics, but he would never tamper with one of his own confections. Finally, after a lengthy stare-down, Lon’qu picks up the tart and pops it into his mouth. Immediately, his eyes pop and his lips twist in a sour wince.

“Well?” Gaius asks, eyebrow raises. As if the visceral reaction that Lon’qu is giving him isn’t already a powerful indication.

Lon’qu puts his hand up to his mouth, and for a moment it looks like he might actually spit the tart out. But after a second, Gaius hears a hard swallow, and Lon’qu’s muffled voice comes through his fingers. “Gods- how much sugar did you put in thatl? It tasted as if I was eating sugar straight out of the bag!”

“Whaat? Really?” Genuine distress drops in Gaius’s chest. His arms fold over his chest, trying to think hard on his recipe. “I thought I followed Stumbles’s recipe to the letter this time. Maybe I can use honey instead…”

“My teeth hurt.” Lon’qu rubs his cheek with the heel of his hand, looking for all the world like a petulant child. Gaius rolls his eyes gratuitously and picks up the cast iron teapot to pour the contents into Lon’qu’s cup.

“Alright, alright, Mr. Food Critic. Here, you can wash it down with some tea. You should like this, it’s nice and bitter.” Gaius watches in amusement as the normally stoic warrior knocks back the tea as if his throat were on fire. When he finishes, Lon’qu puts his cup down with a relieved heaving of his chest. “You’ve got a lil’ bit on your face there, sugar.”

Lon’qu blinks at him once in confusion, probably at the sudden cutesy shift in nicknames, before he seems to absorb Gaius’s meaning. Slightly obscured by the fur of his arm guards, Lon’qu drags his wrist over his cheek. Gaius tries and fails to resist a smirk as he scoots his chair closer to Lon’qu’s.

“Nice try. Let me help you out before you hurt yourself.” Gaius gets up real lose to Lon’qu, his chair parked so close that their knees knock together. The thief lifts a gloved hand and immediately Lon’qu starts as if he’s going to leap away from the table. It takes a great deal of patience and fortitude for Gaius to resist laughing, and gently he continues, “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt ya’. We’re allies, remember? Just relax."

There’s an unsure furrowing of Lon’qu’s brow, but when Gaius slowly moves his hand again he doesn’t move. On the contrary, he seems frozen in his seat. Still as a statue.

Gaius’s thumb lands gingerly on center of Lon’qu’s lip, and the first thing that pops into Gaius’s mind is ‘soft.’ His knuckle tucks itself under Lon’qu’s chin, and he can feel a soft puff of breath on his hand as Gaius drags the pad of his thumb across Lon’qu’s bottom lip, going painfully slowly as he pretends to wipe away an invisible crumb. As Gaius predicted, heat blossoms across Lon’qu’s cheeks and turns them a deep rose.

Gaius makes a low hum in the back of his throat, enjoying the way that the swordsman seems suddenly flustered at his touch. He wonders if this is how Lon’qu is for Robin, as well. An overstimulated, over-sensitive bundle of nerves just begging to be teased. “There. That’s not so bad, is it?”

In one quick, fluid motion, Gaius reaches underneath the table with the hand that isn’t caressing Lon’qu’s face. His palm slides over Lon’qu’s knee, then finally up his thigh. Gaius notices appreciatively that Lon’qu has a pretty long pair of legs on him. Lon’qu’s eyes flutter and widen at the touch.

“I had… no idea you were so thoughtful…” Lon’qu says, and Gaius feels a hand slide on top of the hand that he has on Lon’qu’s thigh. Lon’qu’s hand is large, and warm, and just rough enough. The mere touch sends lightning shooting up Gaius’s arm and he feels a thrill like he’s in free-fall.  


“... Fool.”  


A few things happen very, very quickly.  

First, Gaius becomes aware of a painful, pinching sensation in his wrist. Before he can yank his hand away, he realizes his feet are no longer on the floor. And as Gaius registers a loud ‘thud’ of something hitting the ground, he compares that to his suddenly aching head and back to deduce that the heavy object falling against the floor is him. Gaius stares up at the ceiling as lights pop in his vision, now prone and splayed out against the stone floor. Oops?

A dark shadow obscures the lights from the window, casting a column of blackness across Gaius’s vision. Lon’qu looms above him, looking at Gaius down his nose with a burning kind of scorn.

“Buh?” Gaius enunciates eloquently.

Ignoring that, Lon’qu slowly lowers himself into a crouch above Gaius, balancing on his heels. The tail of his coat trails onto the floor, and he sits with his elbows braced on his knees. “You really don’t think much of other people, do you?”

“What?” Gaius remarks, somewhat more intelligently. His head is still spinning dizzily, and he feels the soft, gentle cushion of blood rushing to form a knot at the back of his skull.

“You assume that trust and naivety beget stupidity, and you think you’re clever because you lack those things.” Lon’qu’s eyes narrow dangerously, and from his position on the floor Gaius can only register that Lon’qu looks incredibly, ridiculously massive from this angle here on the floor. “I don’t appreciate you trying to make an idiot of me.”

At this moment he doesn’t look like Lon’qu, the painfully shy wallflower who goes knock-kneed at the sight of a lady or blushes prettily for his male suitors. He looks, to Gaius, much more in this moment like the cut-throat champion of Regna Ferox who slaughters men where they stand, and can kill Gaius in no less than six ways with only one severe flex of his enormous biceps.

He is, by any imagination of the word, terrifying. And dangerous. And incredibly pissed.

Lon’qu stands up, not even bothering to brush himself off after that debacle. “Thanks for the tea.” He says, and as he turns his coat brushes over Gaius’s stunned, prone body still lying on the floor. Gaius hears the door open and shut swiftly, and then he is sure he is entirely alone.

Breath rises and falls from Gaius’s lips, roaring in his own ears. His body feels both hot and cold. And at once, he realizes that this little encounter is at least a million times more exciting than trying to slip gold out of the royal treasury as ever been.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Gaius’s body is still sore. Dark bruises are sitting against his skin, under his clothes. And when he rubs them and winces, Robin’s observes him with a concerned smirk. “Are you okay?”

“Right as rain, Bubbles.” Gaius winces, adjusting his bandana over the knot on his head. The encounter with Lon’qu has been replaying in head over and over, Gaius analyzing and picking it apart in his head. His finger on Lon’qu’s lip. Lon’qu’s hand over his hand. Gaius’s body slamming against the stone floor. “Just a rough day yesterday.”

Robin taps Gaius’s shoulder, motioning for the thief to show them his back. “I heard you went on a shopping trip.”

“Yeah, and it was rough.” Gaius allows Robin to skim their fingers through his strands of orange hair, stroking his head. “Your boyfriend packs a hell of a wallop. No taste for pastries, either.”

The bruises on Gaius are uncovered, and Robin whistles lowly. “This was him, huh? That’s odd. I’ve never known Lon’qu to lash out against someone who wasn’t ready to fight back. He mentioned something earlier about you egging him on… but that wouldn’t possibly be correct, right?”

They ask that last question with a leading tone. The way the parent of a mischievous child might ask who dipped into the cookie jar before dinner. A flutter of annoyance flops in Gaius’s stomach.

“You sound like him. Said how he thought I was making fun of him or something. But I honestly was just trying to flirt. Maybe my skills are getting rusty?”

The expression on Robin’s face doesn’t look totally surprised. More… contemplative. Their fingers run through their own shaggy hair, pushing back silvery bangs in a way that Gaius assumes is thoughtful. “So, you’re interested in Lon’qu now as well?”

Gaius’s memory flits back to the conversation that he had with Robin before, about jealousy and not wanting anyone to get hurt. It would be way too much like Robin to take responsibility for the actions of someone else (Gaius) and assume it was their fault.

Twisting his body around to face Robin, Gaius grabs the tactician’s hand before they can pull it away. Lacing their fingers with his own, Gaius squeezes their palm tightly and brushes his lips over Robin’s knuckles.

“Don’t get jealous, Bubbles. No matter how popular I get, I’ll always have time for my favorite little blackmailer.”

The hard look in Robin’s eyes appear to soften, but they don’t smile. Their shoulders lower with a sigh. “You know, I often worry about you. If it’s fair for me to want to be close to you, and what kind of choices should I really be making if I want to keep you safe. You keep me up at night, Gaius.”

The grin falls off of Gaius’s face. Robin’s hand gripping his hand feels a little less like an embrace, more like a shackle. And Gaius has a fair bit of experience with those. “And not in the sexy way, I bet.”

“No, not in the sexy way. At least not all the time.” There, Robin finally cracks a smirk. Their bright white eyelashes flutter against dark cheeks. “Gaius, you’re really amazing. Like, insanely talented, and skilled, and strong, and kind. Way more than I think you even realize.”

Now it’s Gaius’s turn to feel heat crawl up his face. Logically, it’s Robin’s job to build them all up, to play to their strengths so that not only to the Shepherds want to win, but they really _believe_ they can win. And that could be a terrible habit in the wrong hands.

The thing is; Everything that Robin says, they believe themself. When Robin tells their soldiers and their friends how good they are, how much they’re all capable of, it’s not all hot air. It’s Robin’s greatest talent, Gaius thinks, to see the best in others. Almost as much as Chrom does.

But always being honest doesn’t always feel good. And if Chrom is the optimist who is always seeing people’s good sides, then Robin as the pragmatist must also see the other half of things as well. “But…”

“But,” Robin continues. “I think that part of you underestimating yourself is that you might… y’know. Do things. Things that hurt yourself, and others without realizing it… You and Lon’qu are both a lot more fragile than you both want to think about. I’m not saying you shouldn’t try to warm up to each other if you really want to. Just be careful, okay?”

“Because if I’m not, Bug Boy is gonna splatter me across the floor?” Gaius suggests.

Robin snorts, releasing Gaius’s hand in exchange for leaning over and giving him a sharp kiss on the forehead. “Something like that. Aw, don’t look so sour about it. Tell you what, why don’t you tell Chrom that I lost something in my room, and I need both his and your help finding it.”

That perks Gaius right up. “Oh? What did you lose?”

Robin stands up to their full height (which still isn’t very much) and winks over their shoulder as they march away. “Depends on how long it takes the two of you to find me.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next time Gaius sees Lon’qu, it’s under even more unusual circumstances than one would even expect for such a thing to happen in the first place.

Gaius is still in the Shepherd’s garrision, and the more he thinks about it the more he realizes he doesn’t have a whole lot of other places to go. Sure, he does other stuff- he helps out where he can in the armory, he trains in the courtyard and assists in the kitchen. But the knights are much better at repairing and sorting the armory than he is, and trying to keep up with Frederick’s Fantastical Fitness Hour is more likely to kill Gaius than anything else.

At this point, the Shepherds are Gaius’s only friends. But he supposes that’s okay, because they seem to be fine with being each other's’ only friends, too.

So Gaius tries to make himself useful. Today he asked Cherche if there were any clothes that needed mending, and she agreeably lifted a pile of laundry bigger than herself into Gaius’s arms and let him go to work. Just like that, no questions or accusations, just a sunny smile. Though she was probably relieved to have this load off of her shoulders- a lot of the tears in people’s clothes here look suspiciously clawed or chewed up by something with enormous talons and carnivore fangs.

As he’s stitching a pair of trousers together, Gaius soon becomes aware of a figure skulking in his peripheral vision. Lon’qu isn’t exactly quiet, more suited to crashing through his opponents and making a lot of noises as he yells and stabs them, but it’s kind of spooky how he can hover around Gaius for a while without saying anything.

Gaius only shows off a little bit, deftly handling the needle and the thread without watching his hands. “If you need me t’ fix a tear on your smallclothes, Bug Boy, you only have to ask.”

There’s a guttural noise that Gaius can only assume is Lon’qu grunting. “I spoke to Robin about you recently.”

The movement of the needle stops in Gaius’s hands. “Oh?” He actually can’t imagine Lon’qu discussing Gaius with Robin at all. He assumed that Lon’qu just one-hand flipped him to the floor and then went about his business unbothered for the rest of the day.

“Robin believes I may have been…” Lon’qu does that thing again. His eyes flutter closed and he seems to collect himself before they flash open. Like he needs a moment for his thoughts to catch up with his brain. “... Hasty in how I behaved towards you. They believe that I might owe you an apology.”

Well, that certainly is unexpected. Gaius looks up at Lon’qu. “Oh. Cool-”

“However,” Lon’qu continues. “I disagree.”

“Ah.”

“I don’t regret throwing you to the floor. It was very easy and actually felt good. But while I am in Ylisse, it makes sense for you and I to think of each other as teammates.” Lon’qu summarizes. Once he’s done, he continues to look at Gaius expectantly.

“Uh, wow.” Gaius has the nervous instinct to pop something in his mouth and chew on it. Usually he manages with one of his lollipops or another piece of candy, but since all he has on hand right now is a very sharp needle that doesn’t seem to the best idea. “Well, thanks for saying so. And I’m sorry that you- well, you should know I wasn’t trying to make fun of you that time, before. Maybe I came on a little strong.”

“I’m not interested in you that way.” Lon’qu affirms.

“Yeah, I got that pretty clear.” Gaius stifles the urge to be annoyed. He can see that Lon’qu is… trying, he guesses? Even though Lon’qu made it pretty transparent that he’s only doing this because Robin asked him to. Gaius scratches the back of his neck. “Still, that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Lon’qu looks like even the word ‘friends’ is a little uncomfortable for him. Like maybe he would prefer Gaius as a pure acquaintance-type relationship, or even just a co-workers deal. Still, he shifts a little on his feet and says, “Yes, that sounds good for both of us.”

“Alright. Good talk, friend.” Gaius grins and gives Lon’qu a mock-salute. But as Lon’qu turns stiffly on his heels to walk away, Gaius does happen to notice sunlight filtering through the window to dapple Lon’qu’s cheek, and that he has a cowlick on top of his head that goes against the grain of his hair to stand up funny. A thin-lipped grin grows on the thief's face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Chapter Where the Sex Happens And Also to a Lesser Extent Plot.

So they’re supposedly cool now. Or whatever. Maybe even friends. And Gaius is totally fine with that and all, because he’s been surprised to find that having more friends actually comes in handy around here. Robin and Chrom always go on about how building bonds makes you better fighters and builds trust or whatever. Gaius has come to appreciate this when he’s paired up for missions with Sully, and she pulls him up onto her giagantic horse and Gaius’s pride finally isn’t in the way of him clinging to her waist for dear life.

But when Gaius isn’t careful, his thoughts keep circling back to Lon’qu. And this time it’s not come petty envy about him being close to Robin, or a simple appreciation that Gaius has for a nice jawline. It’s the sound of Lon’qu’s voice. Specifically, when delivering those cryptic words on the unfortunate day that Gaius got his ass handed to him.

_  
You really don’t think much of other people, do you?_

_You assume that trust and naivety beget stupidity, and you think you’re clever because you lack those things._

Haw. As if Lon’qu has any leg to stand on when it comes to criticizing Gaius for looking down on people. As if anyone in this whole operation is innocent of that. People have tried to do some twisted psychology on Gaius before, and it always comes down to baseless accusations. None of them want to know the real reason Gaius is the way he is, they just want to blame him for it.

So why does this whole thing bother him so much?

And what does he do with these feelings of annoyance and guilt? Lon’qu’s obviously not the kind of person to apologize, as evidence by their earlier encounter. Does Gaius want to prove him wrong, then? If Lon’qu thinks he’s just some stupid thief who picks on easy targets, after all, he has no idea what kind of person he’s really dealing with.

 

Chrom’s bedroom in the castle is at least five times larger than Robin’s room in the barracks, but it apparently has to be to contain a lot more shit. The bedroom itself, to Gaius, look more like an entire apartment. Chrom would be the first to admit it was wasteful abundance of space, but it wasn’t like he designed the building that his family had lived in for centuries.

Besides, Chrom found a good use for the space. Gaius sits at the ancient desk facing the wide, wide windows overlooking the palace courtyard. His fingers roll over the slick surface of the bronze telescope that points up into the vast and starry sky overhead. On the corner wall next to Gaius, near the desk, he glances at a floor-to-ceiling star chart detailing all the constellations and planets in the known realm. Even to Gaius, who will openly mock royal culture at any turn, it is a sight to behold.

“Hey, Blue. What’s that one up there called again? That’s the one with the lady and the frog, right?”

Chrom leans out the window, squinting in the direction that Gaius is trying to point while lavender curtains sway around the edge of the window. In his clear eyes, Gaius can see the silver reflections of the stars, and the prince smiles with pride once he’s recognized the constellation Gaius is trying to show him.

“Queen Amara and her snake, Delphi.” Chrom corrects, and he wraps his hand around Gaius’s to guide it a hair upwards and to the left.

“I was close.”

“Yes, Gaius. A frog and a snake are practically the same thing. Another name for it is ‘Queen Amara and her green slimey friend.’”

Gaius grins as Chrom’s arm wraps around his shoulder. He feels the other man’s weight pressing down on his collarbone, all warm and brimming with life. “If I discovered a constellation, that’s about the kind of name I’d give it. You should buy me the rights t’ some stars so I can name them. Hire a fancy-pants scholar to put my new names in all the history books.

Chrom sighs against Gaius’s neck. And while at first Gaius assumes that it’s a belligerent sigh, he realizes it’s more earnest. Wistful. A sleepy, happy sigh. “Why do you not just ask for more candy and sweets from the royal kitchen like you usually do?”

Not a lot of people know that Chrom likes astrology. He also likes horticulture, always pointing at the different plants and trees to Gaius when they’re outside, letting him know which trees make delicious, sweet sap and which berries will have Gaius hanging onto a bucket in the med tent all afternoon.

People assume that Chrom, future exalt and warrior-prince, is exactly what it says on the tin. All business, all knighthood and serving the realm. If it were Gaius in his shoes, it would actually drive him mad for people to always assume that he thinks about protecting the masses and court life (Hey. Just because he knows that rich people are absurd doesn’t mean he can’t sympathize with this one particular special rich person.) It seems Chrom rarely has time for himself.

When they’re alone together, or even with Robin, Gaius knows Chrom better. The hands on his neck aren’t manicured and soft, but calloused from swords and the rough barks of climbing trees whenever he could escape from the castle. Curtains of blue hair brush Gaius’s cheek, and underneath the perfume and such Gaius knows Chrom smells of dirt and sweat and steel.

Part of Gaius wishes he could just. Steal Chrom away from this life. Like Gaius has stolen literally thousands of things before, he could tuck Chrom in his pocket, and maybe Robin too, and whisk them away from all this royal drivel. The playing politics and serving the realm and curtsying for the rich folk. But they’d never agree. Would never leave their obligations, even for him.

Sometimes Gaius feels very alone. In a world full of princes, princesses, knights, sages, nobles, and warmakers, Gaius feels like he’s the only ‘normal’ person here. No destiny, no legacy, Gaius is only himself and the dirt that he rose out of.

Thankfully, he doesn’t feel alone right now. He has an escape from his less fun and carefree thoughts, and that escape lets himself be embraced when Gaius turns around to rest his cheek in the junction between Chrom’s shoulder and his neck.

Chrom’s laughter bubbles up in his chest, sounding like wind and rain. “You’re very affectionate tonight. Should I be worried about something you did?”

“I’m sleepy. It’s been a hard day of sitting on velvet pillows and waiting for some bandits or an apocalypse dragon to show up so I can clock in.” Gaius mutters. His arms find their way to wrap around Chrom’s shoulders, and his legs wrap around Chrom’s waist. He has no fear of Chrom dropping him, not even with the prince utters a faint ‘oof’ and staggers to compensate for Gaius’s weight. “Take me to bed, Blue.”

 

Chrom obliges, though maybe next time Gaius should specify that he wanted to be gently lowered onto the bed rather than unceremoniously dropped. The mattress, however, is soft and squishy. The feather-down cushion of the four-poster bed just about swallows Gaius up and he spreads his arms and legs out starfish style across the sea of white linen.

No sooner has Gaius been embraced by a sea of clean cloth then Chrom quickly follows suit, dropping onto his stomach next to Gaius and sinking into the pillows. A clean bed- or really any kind of bed at all- has often been a luxury Gaius couldn’t afford. Every time he gets to be in one now, he’s as grateful as he is suspicious.

Tonight, he doesn’t want to think those kinds of thoughts. Tonight, Gaius wastes no time in wriggling under Chrom’s arm, tucking himself against the prince’s side. “Your bed is like a squishy marshmallow. It's the next best thing to sleeping on an actual marshmallow.”

Chrom laughs once, still low in his throat and still warm like a hearth. “Are you hungry or sleepy? I’m glad that you enjoy it, though.”

Gaius, a gentleman, already left his armor and his cowl at the door. Chrom is the one who peels off his gray shirt, kissing the exposed planes of skin with warm, chapped, familiar lips. Gaius’s fingers run through Chrom’s hair, and he never knew he could feel this good. He lets Chrom go about the lengthy chore of undressing both of them, depositing each article of clothing in an unkempt pile off the side of the bed until he comes to Gaius’s gloves.

“I think I’ll leave ‘em on this time.” Gaius beams as he runs his palms down Chrom’s smooth and solid chest. Chrom makes wonderful noises when he’s touched, flushing darkly all the way down his neck to his chest.

Chrom is so laid-back. So easy-going. Gaius, on the other hand, is the kind of person whose preferences tend to change day by day or even hour by hour, and even then just sometimes to be contrary. He knows, for example, that Robin likes to be in control and take care of their lovers, so Gaius takes a special pleasure in being the kind of man who can coax some submission out of the tactician. And Chrom, of course, who plays the role of the big, manly prince that everyone looks up to as a hero, looks so terribly cute when he’s splayed out on his back with his legs spread out against the sheets.

“Gaius…”

He’s delectable. Decadent. Chrom’s fingers, thick and strong, thread themselves through Gaius’s hair as the redhead drags his teeth over Chrom’s stomach. Blunt nails scrape lightly over his scalp, and Gaius moans against Chrom’s hip.

Being trusted is such a powerful feeling. Chrom trusts Gaius to let him into his army, his home, his bed. To grip his gloved hands on the handles of Chrom’s hip as Gaius kisses the inside of Chrom’s thighs. Chrom arches his back as Gaius finds a particularly good spot to fix his mouth onto and suck, earning himself a firm squeeze of his ass as a reprimand. Certainly not just because Gaius has a fondness for Chrom’s royal rear. Shame it’s always hidden away. Some nights Gaius dreams of burning Chrom’s fancy little cape.

He wants to protect Chrom, Gaius realizes. He wants to give Chrom everything that he wants so that he’ll never feel empty and open himself up to potential heartbreak. He wants to give Chrom pleasure, because gods know Chrom has done enough to deserve it. He wants to feel Chrom’s composure slowly dissolve as he tugs on Gaius’s hair when Gaius takes Chrom’s dick into his mouth. Gaius’s tongue swirls around the head like it’s sweet candy and he is gratified to feel the taut muscles in Chrom’s legs turn to jelly around his head.

Chrom moans, loudly and obscenely, and it pretty much goes without saying that Gaius is almost uncomfortably hard. He doesn’t want to get distracted yet, though, not when he’s doing this right. With one gloved hand he strokes the base of Chrom’s cock, shuts his eyes and embraces the feeling of the length pressed tightly against the inside of his cheek. Chrom is a fair bit on the bigger side, and Gaius feels his mouth and lips stretch to accommodate, bobbing his head diligently at the steady pace he knows will drive the prince wild.

The noises that Chrom makes underneath Gaius are guttural and ungraceful, coming from deep in his chest rather than his articulate and lovely voice. He’s tense with need, the way his abdomen flexes as Gaius sucks him off, and his arms and legs curl around Gaius’s body. Chrom’s head falls against the pillow, baring his throat and yelling, and Gaius could count down the seconds until Chrom finishes inside his mouth. Gaius doesn’t care for the bitter taste of cum, but he likes the satisfying ending that comes with swallowing it down.

Once he’s finished, Chrom’s body all but melts into the bed. One arm goes up to brush hair and sweat off of his brow, and Gaius sees him gaze those baby blues up at the ceiling as if in reverence. “Gaius, how do you _do_ that?”

“I’m a man of many talents, Blue.” With the back of his hand and only a little hoarseness in his voice, Gaius wipes saliva off of his chin. His lips feel tender and taste like sweat, and he crawls up the bed to flop against Chrom’s chest. “One day I’ll teach you all my tricks.”

“Oh, really? How generous of you.” Chrom’s voice is back to sounding composed and musical. When Chrom braces his elbows against the bed and flips their positions, Gaius isn’t a bit mad about the manhandling at all.

Standing over him, Chrom beams a charming grin that should by all accounts be illegal for how adorable it is. Gaius’s heart flutters distractingly against the cage of his ribs. “Let me show you what I’ve learned so far, then.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Gaius wakes up, he does so to Frederick's massive shadow looming over the bed. The expression on the knight’s face is as flat as ever, dark eyes peering at Gaius down his nose without blinding.

Gaius puts his hand over his heart, checking for his own pulse. Mortal terror intermingles poorly with morning grogginess, and with wide eyes Gaius asks through the comforter. “Am I under arrest?”

Frederick's brows furrow, though it’s with confusion and thankfully not disapproval. “What? No, Gaius. I’m simply here to wake up Lord Chrom.” Then, mindfully, he adds. “I didn’t know you would be staying over for the evening.”

“Oh. Okay.” Gaius rolls over onto his side, searching for Chrom in the ocean of bedding. When he finally finds the future exalt sleeping face-down with his head buried under pillows, Gaius would seriously worry about him suffocating himself if he didn’t know that was just how Chrom sleeps.

“Hey, Blue. Your wake-up call is here.” He reaches a hand out (he’s still wearing the gloves, he notices) and shakes Chrom’s shoulder. The crown prince mutters sleepily from under his pillow cocoon. Eventually the grunts begin to sound like the formation of the words, “‘M up…”

A hefty sigh escapes Frederick’s body. From the tone, Gaius assumes it’s a sigh of familiarity rather than annoyance. This seems to be a common dynamic between the prince and his right hand man. “Gaius, would you mind seeing that Milord does, in fact, get up? I must see that his tea is ready for him downstairs, and he can be cumbersome to carry.” Gaius hopes that he’s kidding, but chances are that he is probably not.

“Gotcha.” Gaius sits up, minding the blankets collected around his waist. No reason to give Frederick an eyeful of his business. When Chrom fails to continue moving next to him, Gaius flicks his arm sharply. “Geeze, you’re really not a morning person, huh? Come on, Blue. It’s a bright, beautiful, shiny new day!”

Chrom grunts as he rolls over onto his side, fishing his pants off from the floor and tossing Gaius his own trousers. Frederick, who so boldly claimed to have tea downstairs to attend do, has apparently found it difficult to leave the room when there’s still Chrom’s errands he could be doing. He has a folded set of Chrom’s clothes prepared on the large dresser containing any number of tailored garments.

Gaius doesn’t have any clean pairs of silk pants to slip into, but fortunately he’s used to changing into his clothes from the previous day. As long as they don’t have too bad a funk on them, and anyways it’s not like he’s the one who has to present himself to all the nobles and such. So he and Chrom dress side by side, while Frederick pulls aside the curtains and lets a blast of hot sunlight spill onto the marble floor.

“Thanks for having me over, Blue.” Gaius says, momentarily getting his arms caught in his shirt.

“It was a nice night, wasn’t it?” Chrom’s smile is still sleepy, fingers fumbling with his boots. “Thanks for being patient while I went on about stars and telescopes.”

“I myself have been known to, on occasion, appreciate a good star.” Gaius adjusts his cowl. It’s comfortable and handy in the cool night time, but as he observes the fabric clasped around his neck, the black material is gonna be pretty cumbersome for the summer time in broad daylight.

As Gaius tucks the cape around his throat, his fingers brush against the back of his head and a faint touch of soreness duly reminds him of it’s presence. The throb of an old, fading bruise soaks into his skin, and Gaius fondly recalls being thrown to the floor like a beautiful catapult projectile. “Jeeze.”

Chrom looks over, brows raised. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Gaius answers automatically, then thinks while his tongue rolls over the inside of his teeth. Well, as long as he has the means and opportunity. “Actually, can I ask you for something, Blue?”

Chrom adjusts his belt, metal clanking around the same clasps that Gaius had deftly undone not hours ago. “Of course. What do you need?”

“Can you put me on more missions with the other Shepherds?”

He can still hear Frederick’s footsteps as the knight hovers around the room, seemingly absorbed in straightening up the astronomy equipment that Chrom left on his desk last night. Gaius has a feeling he won’t be easy to get rid of now. Even Chrom seems surprised, eyes flicking up to Gaius with that kind of silvery glow to them like when he tries to search Gaius for trust and truth.

“Well, sure. I can try.” Chrom does amend, shrugging agreeably. “That sounds like a better request for Robin, though. You know I usually leave them in charge of organizing the troops for specific missions.”

“Right. Yeah. Thing is, I was hoping you could maybe put me on the same lil’ squad with someone in particular.” Gaius does his best to not seem guilty. Which, for a thief, is kind of a fruitless task, and he can’t lie to Chrom anyways. “I wanna team up with Lon’qu. But, y’see, if he knows that I asked Robin to arrange that, he’s gonna think something’s up. So if you’re the one giving out those orders…” Gaius motions vaguely in the air, pretending not to notice the way Chrom is now staring at him.

“Hmm. I see…” Chrom says in a tone just a tad too patient for Gaius’s liking. He doesn’t want to disappoint anyone. Not Chrom or Robin, at the very least. Serves Gaius right for having feelings. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your recent fixation on Lon’qu, would it? Robin made it sound like you have something of a burgeoning crush.”

That actually does drag a choked little laugh out of Gaius’s throat, folding his arms over his chest. The idea of him, all swagger and street smarts, falling for Mr. Can’t-Talk-to-Girls-Can’t-Hold-a-Conversation McGee is pretty fantastical. “Don’t get too excited, Blue. Just because I like you doesn’t mean I’m like Robin with a type for every handsome boy with a big sword that I see.”

On the other side of the bed, Chrom begins to circle around to Gaius’s side. Chrom isn’t the tallest man around, especially when he’s constantly standing next to tall drinks of water like Frederick and Stahl. But he’s strong, and it’s soaked so obviously into every inch of his being. And he has that calming air about him, a guy like Gaius could get tricked into feeling like they’re protected.

Chrom’s hand lands on Gaius’s hip, and Gaius feels an embarrassing amount of affection at the simple touch. “So then what’s going on? Are you still feeling like you’re having trouble being accepted by the other Shepherds.”

The fact that Frederick is still in the room is painfully, agonizingly obvious to Gaius. He wants to snap at the knight for eavesdropping, but of course Chrom trusts Frederick to keep his lip zipped, and Chrom’s judgement holds way more water than Gaius’s.

“Nah, Bug Boy’s not even a real Shepherd, technically. He’s more like a loan.” Gaius attempts to cut the tension with a scoff, and feels like he fails pretty badly. “I may have… been curious about him. Tested the water with a little flirting. Apparently I came on too strong for a delicate flower such as he, an’ now I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m this shallow braggart who just goes around pestering the big kids. I’d like to show him that I can get serious too is all.”

The tension in the room changes immediately, Chrom’s face darkens a little. “He said that about you?”

“No!” Gaius’s hands fly up to his chest, open-palmed. The last thing he needs is Chrom trying to swoop in and defend his honor, as sweet and cute as that would be. “This is entirely just a vibe I’m picking up. I just wanna, y’know, make sure he knows I’m not all hot air. Show my true colors.”

“In that case, I suppose I could arrange something.” Chrom puts his hand to his chin, and Gaius can see the gears in his mind turning. “I’d still want to talk to Robin about it, of course, before I send two of my best fighters off on their own.”

“Aww, flattery.”

Behind Gaius, he hears Frederick clear his throat politely. Gaius’s stomach flip-flops before dropping to his feet, and he wonders how he so quickly went from wishing for Frederick to disappear to forgetting his existence entirely.

“Milord, forgive me for the intrusion, but I might offer a suggestion. It’s quickly becoming summertime, so as usual for this time of year we expect to see more activity of bandits and mercenary armies accosting Ylisse’s profitable villages. I see no reason Lon’qu and Gaius would not be fit for a patrol around the territories.”

“Oh yes?” Chrom beams, appearing to warm up to the idea quickly. “Pragmatic as always, Frederick. You make this sound like an opportunity for the Shepherds as much as it is for Gaius.”

“I would not want to be so callous as to take advantage of an ally.” Frederick coughs, and diverts his eye contact to a corner of the room. Gaius makes a mental note to try and dig up some blackmail on their loyal knight here- just to be super duper safe. “But both gentlemen in question are skilled fighters who can move quickly from place to place and are sufficient on their own if they get separated. You might support your orders by saying that it is easier to send the two rather than a larger, slower militia. Likewise, I’m sure many Ylissean inns would be happy to board them for free if there were only two soldiers to house.”

“That’s an excellent point. What do you think, Gaius?” Chrom turns his smile onto Gaius, who is beginning to reach the dawning realization that he has to make a decision about this.

“Uh…”

It’s not that Gaius is opposed to travel, of course. And he did want some personal time with Lon’qu. But at least several days on the road with Stabby McStaberson the sparkling conversationalist while tussling with bandits and brigands? And not even getting to see Robin and Chrom on top of that? Not exactly sounding like a barrel full of laughs.

… But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Lon’qu has never exactly been an open book, but here around the garrison he has places to hide away. Training to do and busywork to keep himself out of the limelight. Traveling, on the other hand, will mean Lon’qu has no choice but to be around Gaius. And eventually Gaius will be able to get Lon’qu to open up, and squeeze some sweetness out of that sourball.

“I love it!” Gaius gives a big, confident smirk and thumbs up, ignoring the pit of apprehension opening up inside him like a yawning chasm. “Just lemme know when to head off, gang.”

 

* * *

 

For future references and to save any poor, innocent souls from falling into a tragically common pitfall, never ask Frederick, knight of Ylisse and rock-gardening expert, to tell you when to ‘head off.’ Because the answer will somehow be both ‘unrealistically soon’ and also ‘the most ungodly early hour of the day.’

 

“Is that the fucking moon?” Gaius squints up at the sky, and the black void that has swallowed it up. Frederick had warned Gaius that he would wake him up in the ‘morning’, a time of day that Gaius apparently knows nothing about.

Lon’qu doesn’t look like he’s in much better shape, honestly. The pre-dawn darkness swaddles everything in a veil of blue, through which Gaius can see that the swordsman pull his backpack onto his shoulders with sleepy, bleary eyes and the fluffiest bedhead ever observed by man. Lon’qu doesn’t say anything for himself, but the wide yawn covered by his fist speaks volumes.

The only one who seems to be in a chipper mood is Frederick, already decked out in full armor and wielding a heavy-looking knapsack as if it were nothing. “Now, Gaius, this should contain all your necessary provisions until you reach the next town, as well as tools for maintaining your weapons and medical supplies if you run into an emergency. I tried my best to be considerate of your safety so I included everything I thought you may need, but if you should find yourself lacking try to keep a detailed list for when you get back.”

“Aww, Freddy. You’re the sweetest th- oof!” Gaius’s knees wobble as Frederick drops the pack into his arms. “I’m sure we got this. Right, Bug Boy?”

Rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, Lon’qu’s voice sounds a little growly from sleepiness. It’s honestly a bit adorable. “Can we go now?”

 

Sure enough, by the time that the Sun begins to peek up over the hills, Frederick allows Gaius and Lon’qu to begin their journey and they have the castle of Ylissetol at their backs. And though every inch of Gaius’s body complains for sleep, if he can look past that the early summer morning is kind of beautiful.

“Bunny…” Gaius observes as they march on the dirt road, watching a fragile little ball of fluff scamper across the footpath and into the bushes. “Wonder if it’s a friend of Whiskers’.”

“She’s probably checking on her babies.” Lon’qu says, and man was Gaius on the money when he observed that Lon’qu was bad at being stealthy. With the heavy boots stomping and the sword clanking at his hip, every step the swordsman takes sounds like the stampede of an army.

“Baby bunnies?” Gaius finds himself looking around, as if a rabbit kit is going to pop out of the grass. “Not a very sneaky locale. There’s not even that much shade or cover around or anything.”

“Rabbits typically build their nests in open fields. Makes it less likely they’ll get crushed underfoot, and predators won’t notice them hiding in plain sight.”

“Did Whiskers tell you all these enthralling bunny facts?” Gaius asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“No.” Lon’qu says starkly, then covers another yawn with the back of his hand. “They make delicious stew. Summer is also when they get slow and fat.”

Gaius presumes that it’s going to be a long walk until nightfall.

 

Several times Gaius tries to make idle banter to get Lon’qu to relax a little and open up. Several times, Lon’qu finds ways to shut down the conversation by either just plain not playing along or- worse- saying something just upsetting enough that it makes Gaius want to drop the conversation completely.

Since turning over his new leaf, Gaius has gotten a lot better about showing his humility. Telling the truth even when it gets him into trouble is still sometimes just as hard as it sounds, and it puts a knot in his gut even when Gaius knows that it’s better for the long-term. But Lon’qu just really doesn’t seem like the kind of person who will be satisfied by humiliating Gaius one time and growing from there. It really doesn’t seem like there’s much else that can be done to win him over.

 

Gaius’s eyes flick overhead, where the once clear sky has become splotched and shaded by thick curtains of leaves as they head further from the fields of the capital and into more wooded territory. The faint glimpses of white stars in the sky remind Gaius of Chrom and Robin back at the castle, and his wistfulness only increases when big, purple clouds blot out what remains visible of the sky.

A high whistle catches Lon’qu’s attention as Gaius stops in the road. “We oughta stop and make camp pretty soon, yeah? Dunno about you, but I don’t want all our nice goodies that Freddy packed for us to get all soggy when those clouds open up on us.”

“It’s still early.” Lon’qu replies, not stopping his march and irritatingly forcing Gaius to jog to catch back up with him. “We should try to get further before we stop for the night.”

“Yeah, buuuuuuuuut…” This time, Gaius retrieves a folded sheet of paper and loudly unfurls it. It expands into a full piece of parchment at least eight times its original size, each careful crease and caveat having been powerfully sealed by Frederick’s precise hand. The map that Lon’qu had been given by Frederick for their journey is unraveled to flatness in Gaius’s hands. “All those clouds up there are covering up the moon. Check it out- I can barely even read Freddy’s instructions, and that guy has some pretty big penmanship. Pretty soon we’re not gonna be able to see the road beneath our feet, and I’d rather spend our first night around a toasty campfire instead of at the bottom of a ditch.”

Lon’qu stares at him, seems to process this information, then does what every other human being that Gaius has ever pickpocketed does- he pats down his pockets like he’s trying to smother a fire in his pants. Gaius finds it very gratifying to see him act like a normal person, even when the next reaction Lon’qu has is to growl at him. “How did you get that?”

Gaius folds the map back up like an accordion, shrugging nonchalantly. “If you think we should keep going, I’ll defer to your opinion. Them’s just my two cents on the situation.”

Presumably, a spectrum of emotions are cycling wildly through Lon’qu’s head, though the only one that Gaius can observe is the narrowed eyes and seething frown of hot, sweaty anger. Finally, Lon’qu slaps the map out of Gaius’s hand and shoves it into the folds of his coat. With a voice like a low hiss, he concedes. “One more hour. Then we make camp.” Before turning on his heels and continuing a pace that is definitely more stomp-y than his previous walk. “And never, _ever_ do that again.”

Gaius humbly walks behind Lon’qu, and considers this to be progress.

 

* * *

 

When they find a stopping point that satisfies Lon’qu’s need to never be outdone, the champion begins immediately upon the task of doing everything by himself. He fetches the firewood, he digs out the fire pit, he starts the fire with a piece of flint like Gaius has seen Chrom do on his Nature Boy adventures because Gaius’s fingers are more suited for picking locks than they are for very, very hot fire.

Not that Gaius minds, as it does give him some time to look into what Frederick has supplied them with for the long, lonely road. Inside his own backpack, Gaius finds some dried fruits, salted meats, and a canteen for dinner, as well as his own shard of flint for fire-starting, a small first-aid kid, and a flannel blanket for the evening. Sure, it’s no breakfast in Chrom’s luxurious king-sized, goose down bed, but Gaius has had much worse in the past.

Soon enough, the orange glow of a meager fire spills over Gaius’s lap, and he realized he hadn’t noticed how much the air here had cooled down until a fresh wave of heat sinks into his skin. Lon’qu sits opposite to Gaius on the other side of the fire pit, ankle tucked under his opposite knee and prodding the burning wood gingerly.

“Hey, not bad.” Gaius comments, popping some dried apple into his mouth. It’s not exactly glazed in caramel or anything, but fruit can be good, too. It’s the stellar base of many apple-themed confections.

“I’ll take your word for it. I’m not hungry yet.”

“That’s not what I- ah, forget it.”

For a while, Gaius just listens to the sound of the woods, interspersed with the crackle of fire and the sound of his own chewing in his ears. The golden sparkle reflects against Lon’qu’s eyes, mixing with the brown to deep red hue under perfectly black lashes. He looks as unreadable as he usually does. Odd, how a person can have a reputation of being both unflappable and easily flustered. The true duality of man.

Maybe that’s what Robin sees in him. Maybe Chrom was on the money when he said that Robin and Lon’qu needed each other, and there’s something underneath those stoic, murky depths worth getting to know that doesn’t end in a sword going through someone’s soft, meaty body.

 

“Seriously, though.” Gaius asks. “You’re gonna eat those apples, right?”

Lon’qu sighs, which is a noise that is almost indistinguishable except for the subtle heave of his shoulders. “You talk a lot.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told that before.” Gaius replies, though there’s not any venom in his retort. Pretty much every person he’s ever encountered has noticed that he’s a wise-ass. Most are just too proper and stuffy to say it.

Lon’qu’s brow furrows for a second, eyebrows knit together into a furrowed, stern line. It looks like he struggles for words, his gaze not leaving the meager flames at his feet. “Don’t you ever… worry that you’ll run out of things to say?”

“Uhhhhh…” Well, this is an ironic time for Gaius to suddenly become lost for speech. He pulls his legs in to sit cross-legged and consider his foot for a minute. “Not really. Unless I’m talking to somebody who’s really hard to have a conversation with, y’know?”

“Someone like me.” Lon’qu adds casually, with all the confidence as if he were stating a plain fact. And as much as Gaius is inclined to agree, there’s something kind of sad about how Lon’qu is so willing to admit this flaw. The swordsman always seems happy to be left alone, and believing that is much more preferable to considering that maybe the reason Lon’qu doesn’t want to be around people is that he never learned how.

“Well, yeah.” Gaius gingerly pats his own knees, eager for something to do with his hands out of nervous habit. He hates sitting still, at least when he’s not holding his position to sneak past some patrolling guards. “That doesn’t mean it’s impossible, though. Take Specs for example- erh, Miriel,” Gaius amends when Lon’qu’s eyes flick up to him with a look of blankness. “Sometimes she’s hard to converse with because she’s always off in her own little science-y world, and she doesn’t listen well when you ask her to dumb it down a bit. But she’s pretty cool once you learn how to talk t’ her. Everybody is.”

“Hmm.” Lon’qu seems to consider that, stony gaze returning to the red embers of the campfire as quickly as they had left. Overhead, Gaius can hear the quiet smattering of light raindrops against flat, thick leaves, like the tapping against a thin roof. The canopy is protecting them from the drizzle for now, and the rhythmic sound is sleepily soothing

“I mean- I dunno, maybe I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to getting to know people either.” Gaius admits, because he does want to be honest right now. It’s not fair to claim that he’s the most popular guy in the Shepherds by a long shot. With a shrug, he continues. “Not everybody wants t’ get chummy with a thief, right? I can’t keep up with all them nobles when they go on about elite stuff and court manners and whatever.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that to be an obnoxious topic to try to disperse, too.”

Gaius does feel a smirk crawl over his lips, and it’s not just because he’s happy to be basking in the glow of a tiny fire with his tummy full of trail mix feast.

Lon’qu notices the pause, looking back up at Gaius with a rise of his brow. “What?”

“Nothing.” Gaius yawns into the back of his hand, and tries to center himself by pulling out his blanket to unfold over his lap. “You’re funny sometimes.”

“Not really.” Lon’qu grumbles, but doesn’t appear bothered when Gaius prepares himself to doze off for the evening.

 

* * *

 

Gaius’s least favorite part about being on the road is his restless sleep. Having enough experience napping on the cold ground, he has no trouble falling into a light slumber, but staying that way is much more difficult.

His dreams are full of confusing visions. A random splattering of upsetting sights and sounds. He hears foul language and sharp words in his ears, and before his eyes he sees his hands turned up towards sunlight but coated in an inky, black layer of mud and filth, like thick oil or liquid night. When Gaius wakes up, he feels clammy all over. He realizes that, underneath his blanket, he’s curled himself into a tight ball with his shoulders clenched.

It becomes a little more reassuring to know it wasn’t just his own messed-up psyche that woke him up when Gaius notices that the tapping sensation on his head isn’t just a pounding headache but also the dripping of raindrops. The rain must finally have become heavy enough to break through the canopy, then, which explains the chill setting in under Gaius’s skin.

Putting his hands up to his face, Gaius breathes on his fingers. He hates the cold, far more than he hates the heat. They’re both traitors, silent killers. The heat will stick to your side, dogging your heels until it finally feels like you’re insides are on fire and your head is exploding. But coldness is the trickier one- the cold will lull you into false security, and Gaius has seen very, very strong men who could take a blow to the head heavy enough to kill a cow succumb, slowly and tortuously, to the unrelenting waves of consumption that roll through the homes of the poor and deprived every winter.

It isn’t the cold season right now, but at any rate Gaius doesn’t want to sit out and be miserable in the rain all night. He looks over the smoldering pile of embers that used to be their campfire, finding the shape of Lon’qu splayed on his side and using his own arm as a pillow. He’s not even using the blanket that Frederick packed for him, Gaius has to assume that the idiot is soaked already.

Up on his knees, Gaius scoots around the firepit that is quickly turning gray and cold to get closer at Lon’qu’s head. Up close and in the blue darkness, the swordsman looks unnaturally pallid in a way that Gaius can at first only attribute to the chill of the rain.

… Until he notices that it isn’t. Lon’qu isn’t locked away in a peaceful sleep. His fingers close to his face twitch, curling at the knuckles into fists. His face is a dark and grave mask, lips pinched in distress, and under the hush of the rain Gaius hears a sound. It’s small, and scared. A high gasp rasps out of Lon’qu’s chest, and Gaius has enough experience with night terrors to know them when he sees them.

 

“Hey, Bug B- Lon’qu.” Gaius tries gently, hoping that the sound of his voice will be enough to soothe Lon’qu a little. It feels way too intimate and invasive, to sit here watching Lon’qu have a nightmare. He looks so vulnerable, all lost and confused.

“It’s okay, big guy. Wake up.” Gaius places his hand tenderly on Lon’qu’s shoulder, give him a little shake to jostle him. He surprises himself with the softness of his own voice. “You’re just having a bad-”

 

The next words are ripped from Gaius’s throat, along with the air from his lungs, as his body hits the dirt. The pain in his body is superseded by the quick tab of airlessness in his chest, because now there are two hands wrapped around Gaius’s throat and squeezing.

Lon’qu is ontop of him, his lips peeled back from his teeth in a snarl. Showing flashes of pink gums like a frightened animal as his fingers are tight around Gaius’s windpipe. By now, Gaius is obviously no stranger to Lon’qu knocking him on his ass, but that time in Gaius’s room was just Lon’qu toying with him. This time, it doesn’t seem like the dark-haired man knows what he’s doing at all.

Immediately, there’s real fear rushing through Gaius’s blood, as cold and quick as if he had been submerged in ice-water. He’s not thinking about how Lon’qu is his ally and friend, just about how much he doesn’t want to be killed out here in the woods with no help around. No one to pull him out of this scrape, as usual. The pain in his throat and his chest is so sharp, and the corners of his vision are getting so dark, Gaius doesn’t think when he curls his foot into his body and stomps against Lon’qu’s chest with all his strength.

It’s enough to shake his grip. Gaius may not be the biggest or the strongest guy among the Shepherds, but he can take care of himself. The moment that Lon’qu’s grip weakens, Gaius’s fist finds purchase against the side of Lon’qu’s skull and the swordsman bowls over.

“Fuck!” Gaius wheezes hoarsely, relishing the sensation of air rushing freely back into his lungs. As his chest heaves raggedly, his fingers reach up to gently explore the skin of his neck, unsurprised to find it tender and bruised.

Well, that will be a problem in the morning. Next to Gaius on the grass, Lon’qu moans. Gaius looks over to see Lon’qu pull himself to his knees, hand over his eyes and looking nothing short of dazed. “Gaius…?”

“Hey, buddy-” Gaius attempts to say, then cuts himself off with a hacking cough. Bad idea. Still too sore.

Fortunately, Lon’qu seems to quickly glean onto the situation. His eyes are wide, the whites showing out starkly against the nighttime shadows. Even in this compromising moment, Gaius still feels bad for him. He really does look like he had no idea what just happened.

 

Still on his knees. Lon’qu scrambles to his own pack and fishes out his canteen of water. He’s quickly at Gaius’s side and hoists the thief into a sitting position, placing the lip of the bottle at Gaius’s mouth with perhaps excessive urgency. “Gods… I- Gaius, I am so sorry.”

Gaius takes a sip of the water, then when he realizes exactly how sore he is he takes a more luxurious gulp before clearing his throat and answers. “Hey, It’s okay. I’m fine, alright? We’re fine.”

“It’s not.” Lon’qu shakes his head, and the genuine distress painted over his face is jarring to see. “I shouldn’t have acted out like that. I could have seriously hurt you.”

“Hey, now. I think I was doin’ pretty good at handling you back there.” Gaius frowns with indignity, though his voice is still scratchy and weak. “You were having a nightmare, right? So you freaked out when I tried to wake you up. It’s not your fault, you were just scared.”

“Yes, I was… having a nightmare. But I should be able to control myself.” Lon’qu says sourly. “It must be that I’m not used to seeing you when I wake up, I thought you were a stranger. This won’t happen again.”

By which, of course, Gaius assumes Lon’qu means this doesn’t happen with him and Robin. Or if it does, it hasn’t happened for a long time.

It does seem strange, and extra mysterious, that Lon’qu of all people would wake up from night terrors in a frenzy. The only thing Gaius has seen him freak out at before is flirting, and he doubts that Lon’qu is having bad dreams about suitors beating down his door.

Minutes tick by, marked by the marching tap of raindrops against the soft ground. Gaius pulls his knees to his chest and tries to ignore the throbbing of a dark bruise spreading over the sides of his neck, while Lon’qu looks strangely small as he stews in guilt and regret. He sits stiffly on his knees like he’s expecting Gaius to reprimand him, looking at the ground.

“What were you dreaming about?” Gaius asks, and some of the remorse melts off of Lon’qu to show his usual scowl. Trying to raise the walls back up. When he gets no response, Gaius continues. “... I wasn’t sleeping well, either. That’s why I woke up first, I s'pose. I dreamt about getting ambushed or something. Guess I’m just used to living on the street and thinking about getting jumped at any second. Pretty paranoid, right? We’re probably the only suckers sitting out here for miles.”

Lon’qu’s head turns a bare inch, his lips tightly sealed. A crueler part of Gaius thinks about maybe coughing and clearing his hoarse throat to get Lon’qu to be a little more compliant, but as soon as he dismisses that thought he hears the deep voice of the swordsman at a low mumble. “So you grew up on the streets as well, then?”

In the back of Gaius’s mind, vile memories try to close their jaws on his thoughts. Wrapped up in the heroic life of a Shepherd and living the cushy life in Ylisstol, it was almost easy to forget what it was like growing up alone in a time of war and misery. To scrape by without family or friends, to be scorned by his social ‘betters’ for what he was. To be too young to understand what longing was and why it was so deeply embedded in his heart.

Anyone who has ever cared to ask about Gaius’s background in the past knows that he has no interest in talking about it. He’d much sooner make a joke, turn the question around and skip away with candied orange in his mouth than try and explain that the past had no business in his present.

“Yeah. I did.” Gaius answers, and the tightness in his throat has nothing to do with nearly getting choked out just moments before. Well, it does a little bit. “Ever since I can remember. Hell, up until I joined up with Blue and the gang that’s just how it was.”

Lon’qu blinks slowly. Thinking. Gaius watches the pink tip of his tongue dart out and wet his dry lips before he has gathered his thoughts to answer. “In Chon’sin, a girl took pity on me. She brought food from her parents’ home and eventually became my first friend.”

Gaius already can tell the direction this story is going in. There’s no shock of surprise when Lon’qu continues briefly. “She was killed. And I was too weak to stop it, and even my testimony as witness to the cravens who murdered her was debated.”

It seems, retrospectively, like a surprisingly small thing to plague Lon’qu for years. How many times had the champion cut down dozens of foes without even giving them a second thought. Most of the warriors in the Shepherds are hardened to death, but they’re still humans. They know the weight of what they’re doing, and how easily someone close to them could be snatched away just as easily as they snuff out an enemy.

 

But Lon’qu wasn’t a fighter back then, and for the first time Gaius tries to imagine what a young Lon’qu was like. As deprived and lonely as Gaius himself was, experiencing the death of a loved one for the first time. Perhaps the only person who ever cared for him suddenly ripped away. No wonder, then, why Lon’qu is so chilly to any attempt to make friends.

“I’m sorry.” Gaius is definitely in over his head. It should be Robin here, comforting Lon’qu with their heart on their sleeve. It should be Chrom, who’s earnesty could probably melt away even Lon’qu’s years of shame. Instead, it’s just Gaius, with no righteous soapbox of his own to stand on and tell Lon’qu that everything is okay.

Lon’qu seems to shake himself a little bit, expression hardening, but his heart just isn’t in it. “It’s fine. It was a long time ago.” He rearranged himself, sitting back and straightening his shoulders. “Thank you… for not holding my actions against me. And for listening. If you want to go back to Ylisstol tomorrow instead of traveling the rest of the journey with me, I would understand.”

“Eh.” Gaius tries to shrug, and grins weakly. “What’s some light strangulation between friends? Plus, I did clock you in the head pretty hard.”

“It was deserved.”

The silence between them is almost comfortable again. Still tense, but no longer hostile. Gaius has a feeling that neither of them are going to fall back into peaceful sleep tonight.

 

Eventually, a genuine smile does break out thinly over Gaius’s lips, and he finds himself staring intently at Lon’qu. The latter must sense some persistent eyes hovering on his face, because Lon’qu opened one dark eye to look at Gaius inquiringly. “Yes?”

“We’re bonding.” Gaius says, voice oozing in a smarmy tone that only he has been able to master. He leans in on his hands just so Lon’qu can get a full eyeful of his grin. “You’re opening up to me an’ junk. Like real friends do.”

“I guess.” Lon’qu shrugs his shoulders, and Gaius just barely catches a glow of pink flush on his face. “Does it always feel bad like this? Because I’m not sure I like it.”

“You’re doing just fine.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a briefer chapter. I'm falling a bit behind on this fic, so I'd like next chapter to get back to the fun stuff. Plot is all well and good, but I'm really just here for Gaius and Lon'qu flirting/fighting.
> 
> Also I'm hoping to wrap this fic up and put a bow on it in maaaaaaaaaybe five chapters now? Though if it takes more I will not be surprised. C'est la vie.

Morning can’t come soon enough, though Gaius still feels his body heavy with exhaustion. The sky is still grainy and gray overhead, looking pretty unwelcoming to a pair of earnest travelers just trying to keep up their patrol.

Gaius wraps his slightly damp blanket back up and makes sure his stomach isn’t empty before they start marching. After last night, his throat is still sore and his belly twists into knots from stress, but forcing down some of the mild jerky is looking like a far more attractive option than passing out in the middle of the road like a dumbass would be.

He watches patiently as Lon’qu uses his heel to disassemble the already cold and wet firepit, just for safety’s sake. They don’t discuss the previous night, Lon’qu acting as distant as aloof as he always does. Gaius can’t yet decipher if it’s because he’s angry at Gaius for seeing him in a rare moment of weakness, or if this is just how Lon’qu is regardless of the circumstances surrounding him. This one is still so hard to read.  


Standing at the edge of the road, Lon’qu retrieves the map that Gaius has graciously withheld from stealing this time. “We should be approaching the first of the three towns on our patrol today. We should take note of any criminal activity or disasters we notice to report back to Lord Chrom.”

“Yeah, sure.” Gaius adjusts his backpack on his shoulders. He wonders about when he gets back to Ylisstol and, if/how he’s going to tell Robin that on their first night on the road Gaius and Lon’qu already got into a tussle. Maaaybe it just won’t come up?  


The first town approaches faster than Gaius could have expected, the woods clearing away to once again reveal open meadows and grassy knolls. The two men cross a bridge over a hearty, swollen stream and Gaius notices small farm buildings and structures to speckle the plains. In this early morning, some folks have already started their business around their land.

“Good morning, sirs.” A young woman says to them in passing, a large basket of laundry on her hip and an earnest smile on her face. Sometimes Gaius loves the villagers of small, unassuming towns, with their generous words and generous attitudes. He gives her a polite wave back, whereas Lon’qu continues to walk as if he hadn’t even seen her.

Lon’qu’s legs are quite a bit longer than Gaius, he has to really work a pace to keep up. But he does, looking quite casual with his hands behind his back and tucked under his cowl. And when they’re safely out of earshot, Gaius asks nonchalantly, “So is ‘that’ why you’re so shitty to women? ‘Cuz of your friend you told me about last night?”

The look that Lon’qu gives him might be more suitable if Gaius just kicked a basket of kittens into a river. Not surprising, since this is a topic that’s beyond personal. Bad Gaius. Naughty Gaius. “I don’t want to discuss it.”

“That is it, though, right?” Gaius presses, and yes this is risky. And probably very mean. But in the same vein, the silence and lack of answers kills him. “Because your friend was a girl, now you avoid half the world’s population because you think any woman who gets close to you is gonna get hurt? Because I know a few ladies who can cure that fear for you- Just try to beat Sully in a drinking contest, she’ll pick you up the floor like a swooning damsel. I know from experience.”

“That’s not it.” Lon’qu says, and there’s a deeper growl to his voice. When his eyes flash to Gaius in anger, the thief merely raises his eyebrows and pulls the cowl away from his bruised, tender neck with a flourish, which succeeds in taking the wind out of Lon’qu’s sails.

A heaving sigh falls out of Lon’qu’s chest, eyes diligently fixed on the road. Gaius should get beaten up more often, if this is the kind of compliance it gets him. He’s a big dick. “I don’t act this way on purpose. I know it’s unfair to demand that my female allies make special exceptions for my… deficit."

Now it’s Gaius’s turn to be quiet, patiently letting Lon’qu work his way through his story. “Ke’ri- my friend. When her parents found out she had been killed while in the company of a penniless nobody, they of course were inconsolable. I can’t begin to imagine what that was like, losing a child. In their grief they said… things to me. A lot of things. Like that it was shameful, that as a man it was my duty to protect her. I suppose once you’ve ingrained something like that, it’s hard to shake off.”

Once again, this overstepping of boundaries feels obscenely intimate. The more Gaius learns of this story, the sadder it gets, and he severely hopes that this is the point where it ends. Like, okay, cool. Thanks, Naga, for fucking up this dude’s life so severely. Really cool of God. “You weren’t a man, though. You were just a kid.”

“Hmmr.” Lon’qu grunts, which Gaius can now translate to mean that they’re done with this line of conversation. “You’re nosy. And annoying. Does being a thief include hoarding everybody’s secrets as well as their sweets?”

“Only if hoarding means I can keep my lip buttoned about them.” Gaius winks, tapping Lon’qu’s broad chest playfully. “Don’t worry, Bug Boy. I won’t go blabbing to anybody ‘bout what you tell me. If I did, you could always finish popping my head off my neck like a grape.”

“I would use my sword. I’m not an animal.”

 

 

As the two reach the center of the town, they once again must make a decision of what to do. Their goal is to be peacekeepers, as ironic as the two men in question are for such a job, and that means going around looking for trouble that needs heroic stopping.

The town is fairly large, only being a day and a half’s walk from Ylisstol. When Gaius and Lon’qu enter, they’re immediately siphoned into a large, open, marketplace type area with a modest fountain and shops lining the street. Early evening is creeping in, though the late summer sun keeps the darkness at bay. It honestly doesn’t look like an interesting place for two nosy soldiers.

 

“This hardly seems like a good use of our time.” Lon’qu clicks his tongue. A somber man decked out in swords and Feroxi fashions stands out quite a bit here, and the villagers give him a wide berth.

Gaius is inclined to agree, rubbing his chin with his palm. It doesn’t exactly behoove them to be going from house to house, asking any random citizen if trouble is afoot. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of a brown cat streak across the square and duck into the tight corner of dark alley, and he gets an idea. “Lemme check something out.”

 

There’s a new lightness in Gaius’s feet as he follows the end of that long tail around the corner, feeling himself lean onto his tiptoes, and instincts take over. The alley he finds himself in is still well-lit, but narrow. That’s a good sign. Doors occasionally freckle the tight and gritty brick walls, their lanterns hanging by the threshold to try and entice visitors inside establishments that may otherwise go unnoticed, or overlooked.

Lon’qu’s footsteps trample after Gaius, clanking his way to the mouth of the alley. “Gaius, what are you even looking for?”

“Something I’m not supposed to.”

 

It takes a while to drift away from the face of the village, leaving behind the industrious, inviting smells of honest labor. Fresh baked bread wafting from an open bakery window. The tangy, smoky smell of grilled meats from the butcher.

Deeper into the alley and, thusly, deeper into the true grit of the busy town, Gaius’s nose recoils from the rank scent of garbage set out on the stoop to fester. Bundles of trash decompose like rotting corpses and fall apart into puddles of indeterminate origin, reflecting a slick black back up against the walls when Gaius’s boot soundlessly skids across them. Though Gaius has never been in this town before this feels, in it’s own way, very familiar, and very welcoming.

Welcoming, for Gaius, isn’t always a good thing. He’s been plenty welcome in some not-so-great situations.

He finds what he’s looking for after enough twisting and turning around corners, a little stoop with a yellow lantern hanging above the door. On the cobblestone floor, Gaius’s toe points towards a single brown bottle, half-way filled with water and a lonely, wilting white lily leaning out of the lip.

Under Gaius’s single, raised eyebrow, he has a good feeling about this.

It takes Lon’qu a hot minute to catch up, and by the level of his shoulders Gaius assumes the swordsman is suitably irritated at being left in the dust. Gaius puts a single finger to his lip (as if Lon’qu needed encouragement to ignore the social conventions of conversation) and then points at the door.

Lon’qu is still a difficult man to read. Gaius doesn’t know if he’s surprised or what, but he at least understands. Lon’qu puts his hand against the door and pushes it open with a noisy, ancient creak and immediately the smell of alcohol pours out of the door and hits the two Shepherds in the face like a physical force.

The inside of the tavern looks almost exactly like every other seedy tavern that Gaius has ever been in before- dark, sparsely decorated and somehow always looking faintly damp, like the walls are mere seconds away from sprouting spores of mildew and mold. It’s still early in the evening, so Gaius isn’t surprised to see a few patrons still poking over their soggy dinners and not yet truly soused enough to be liabilities to the establishment. Despite the general air of unpleasantness, it doesn’t seem like an altogether bad place to grab a quick drink. Gaius slides right on inside as if he knows what he’s doing.

Behind the counter of the bar is a sultry figure, emptying a pitcher into a gentleman’s mug. The low cut of her dress and fluttery eyelashes tell of a… mature woman, as well as her pronounced… visage. Gaius can’t help but note a few streaks of silver skillfully tucked within blond tendrils hanging over her shoulder. Her eyes roll over them unassumingly- at least for the moment.

“Hello, Boys.” She says, in a tone that oozes familiarly to Gaius of false modesty. “What can I get-”

In a split second, her eyes do drink in the sight of the two men before her. Gaius, a smart boy, has his sword on the back of his belt, so it’s within easy reach but not immediately noticeable to outside observers. Lon’qu, on the other hand, looks about as grim as ever with his blade eagerly sitting on his side, which doesn’t really work to make Gaius look any less suspicious by association. He can imagine that to her, they look like mercenaries. And largely not a couple of soldiers associated with Ylisse’s royal family.

The bartender’s eyes crinkle as she finishes scanning them, and deems them to not be an immediate threat. Gaius wouldn’t be surprised if she has something behind the bar back there for ‘crowd control.’ “-Started for you two t’day?”

Gaius hops on up to the bar and sits himself down nice and pretty. Every adventurer and ne’er-do-well worth his salt knows you always dish with the bartender first. “I’d like to just jump right in with an Old Fashioned! What’s good for eatin’ here, doll?”

She pours him an ale, setting it on the countertop in a mug too big for Gaius to even consider finishing in good conscious. “Honey, it’s all good. You just walked into the hidden gem of the village. But we do a mean lambchop plate in particular.”

“I’ll take some of that, please.” Gaius grins cordially, and takes the mug by the handle as if he’s actually going to consider drinking it. Behind his shoulder, Lon’qu hovers like a grim specter, and the bartender attempts to lavish her generous attention upon him next.

“And for you, handsome?”

Gaius assumes he must be starting to get to know Lon’qu at least a little well, because he can watch the mental gymnastics going through the champion’s mind as his eyes widen and his face goes pallid with discomfort. When he speaks, his voice is a grunting bark. “N-none. Nothing!” And Gaius resists the urge to press his face against the cool, sticky surface of the bartop and snicker to himself.

“Ooookay, then.” Clearly no stranger to weirdos, the bartender turns her eye back on Gaius and winks playfully. “I’ll getch yer lamb right out, sugar.” She is clearly Gaius’s kind of people.

Patting the stool next to him, Gaius turns his eye back on Lon’qu. “Sit. We’re gonna be here for a while.” When the swordsman complies, he adds a smarmy. “Smooth moves back there.”

“Quiet.” Lon’qu glowers at his hands clenched into fists against the wood counter. “I hate taverns. They’re noisy, encourage sloppy behavior, and smell bad.”

“Yes, please do continue to shit-talk here where everybody can hear you.” Gaius puts his chin in his hands. He has a hard time imagining the citizens in Ferox don’t typically enjoy a warm mead in the midst of their severe winters, and wonders momentarily if it’s just Lon’qu’s fate to be a socially awkward pariah wherever he goes. “Anyways, I’m gonna do us both a favor and handle the talking to this lady. So try not to be a dick for a minute.”

 

Lon’qu sits and presumably stews while Gaius smiles at the bartender when she returns. “I put your order in, sugar. It’ll be right out soon as it’s done.”

“Thank you kindly, Miss…” Gaius leans on his elbows, takes a sip of his mug and bravely keeps himself from cringing as sour, wheaty alcohol slides burningly down his throat. Serves him right- Gaius prefers his drinks to be sweetened beyond the measure that any mortal human can comprehend, but one might be surprised to find there aren’t a lot of well-traveled mixologists in Ylisse.

“Friends call me Gwen, my dear.” She says, and tucks a golden curl behind her ear. As the dim light moves, Gaius can more clearly see the lines on her face. Not uncommon for working-class folk, and Gaius expects that as far as being a useful source of information she has certainly seen some shit in her days.

“Miss Gwen.” Gaius appeases, and gestures in Lon’qu’s direction with a jut of his elbow. “My buddy and I just rolled into town, and we sure do appreciate having a place to put our feet up for a bit. If our job will be as easy as finding a hot meal and warm company, I’d say we’re in the clear.”

“You two are working gentlemen then, I take it?” Gwen says, and she idly wipes condensation off of her bartop with a stained rag. Her tone sounds polite, maybe even husky, but dry. She obviously isn’t getting paid enough to put up with creeps like Gaius and his Big Silent Friend. “How mysterious. I take it you have something you’d like to ask little old me, since you brought it up.”

“Very astute of you, Gwen!” Gaius says, then tents his fingers conspiratorially. Friends may be surprised to know that Gaius is hardly as charming as he lets on- really, the only thing he has going on is an extremely false sense of bravado and not much else to lose. It’s this devil-may-care lease on life that allows Gaius to give Gwen the most dazzling smile he can muster. Chrom would be proud of him, and maybe even swoon a little. “The nature of our business is a lil’ on the… well, the daring side, really? I couldn’t just expect a lovely lady like yourself to know about the troubled side of town.”

Her expression doesn’t shift much. If Gaius expected her to be cagey, he was sorely mistaken. “You don’t need to play coy, darlin’. Neither of us are getting any younger here, so if you wanna ask something just ask.”

Gaius decides that maybe it’s safe to gently move forward with the plot of this interrogation. Lon’qu decides it’s time to slam his hand down on the bar between Gwen and Gaius and, in a tone that projects only serious gravitas, say, “We’re from Prince Chrom’s army. We’ve been tasked with settling any internal disputes or dangers to Ylissean citizens we find. If anything worth our time has happened lately, you should tell us about that.”

Gwen’s gaze on him is hard, looking almost stern. Gaius’s lips peel back from his teeth in a deep grimace and his fingers idly tap against the wood surface of the bar, waiting for a reaction. Finally, Gwen leans away from them and says, “Lemme check on that lambchop, babe.” before she slips back into the kitchen.

Very quickly and cathartically, Gaius slams his forehead against the bar. Lon’qu stares at him. “Your method wasn’t getting us anywhere.”

“It’s called ‘patience.’ Something you obviously don’t have, as well as a brain.” Gaius unpeels his face from the bar, taking something suspiciously sticky back up with him in order to glare venomously at his dark-haired companion. “Did it occur to you that some people might not be a fan of the Royal family? Just because these are Blue’s citizens doesn’t mean they want his soldiers sniffing around their personal business. Soldiers have a bad reputation for taking advantage of civilians!”

Lon’qu scoffs, or at least Gaius thinks that it’s a scoff. In practice, it actually sounds more like a throaty noise of disgust. “I know that! Do you think I’m some kind of knight, tromping around castles and waiting for adulation?”

“Then why did you just- fuckin’-” Gaius splutters and drags his hands down his face. “I don’t understand. I just don’t get you, man.”

“At least this is guaranteed to move things along faster than sitting here, watching you attempt to clumsily flirt with that poor woman at her place of work like a simpering moron!” Lon’qu growls using his hand to gesture severely at the place where Gwen was standing while Gaius needled her.

Removing his palms from his face, Gaius blinks at Lon’qu for a minute while a myriad of emotions crawl across his brain. “Okay, _first_ of all?” He points an accusatory finger at Lon’qu’s chest. “ _You_ don’t get to talk about ‘clumsy flirting.’ Not now. Not ever. Don’t pull that shit with me. Second of all, if you’re _jealous_ -”

Red immediately tints Lon’qu’s cheeks, and his eyebrows twitch with poorly contained outrage. “Of _what?_ I’ve already experienced your fumbling courtship endeavours first-hand. Did I strike you so hard you had already forgotten?”

Some indeterminate sensation flashes scathingly across Gaius’s vision, making him white out for a moment. He thinks it might be mortification, or maybe just the shock of being tongue-tied for once in his life.

Gaius is about to throw down on exactly what Lon’qu can fumble with by himself when the door to the kitchen creaks open again and Gwen appears holding a metal plate containing a steamy, hearty serving of fresh food. Gaius quickly shuts his trap and hopes that Lon’qu has the sense to do the same, while his eyes trail the woman who places the meal in front of him. It smells, surprisingly, really good. Especially considering Gaius hasn’t had a full meal all day. But that’s not where his attention is.

“We had a regular here for a few years. Nice fella, always tipped. Well… Usually tipped. He tipped.” Gwen begins. She places one hand on her hip and the other on the bar top between the two Shepherds, leaning all her weight and honestly looking a little exhausted. “A blacksmith with his own little place around here. Well, one day he says he’s gonna make a delivery to a friend in the next town over, show them some of the tricks he’d been working on. Weeks pass, and nobody’s seen him sense. Not exactly an uncommon story around these parts, sadly. Ever since the war, and all those monsters appearing, people have been real scared, and this isn’t helping.”

Well, that explain who the flower on the stoop is set out for, then. Gwen certainly isn’t exaggerating- it would only be too easy for a group of bandits to jump a blacksmith out on the road, but even so, killing him after robbing him seems needlessly severe. Despite being a man who has faced down everything from cut-throats to Plegian warriors with nothing but a steel sword and a cunning smirk, Gaius gets an uneasy feeling deep in his stomach. “Hrm…"

“That’s something to start with.” Lon’qu grunts, shaking Gaius back to reality. He blinks a little focusing, before nodding at Gwen with certainty.

“Yeah. Right. Thanks, hon. We’ll see what we can dig up.”

“Sure, sweetie.” Gwen doesn’t sound entirely convinced, but she gives him a weak smile. Gaius hopes that, at the very least, an open ear has soothed her worries a little bit. Keeping all that misery locked up could be the death of a person. “You boys be careful out there.”

 

Gwen leaves the two men to their own devices, and Gaius pokes at his lambchop with an initial lack of appetite. Though it’s pretty quick to return once he remembers how empty his stomach is, and having something hot and ready in his belly makes him feel instantly better.

Mouth half-full of potatoes, Gaius elbows Lon’qu in the ribs and points towards his own plate with his fork. “You gonna ask for some of this or what? Here, have a bite. I know you haven’t eaten all day, either. Did you even snack on that care-package that Freddy packed for you.”

“I-” Lon’qu averts his eyes quickly as a low rumble echoes from the depths of his stomach. He glowers at the counter seriously while Gaius waves Gwen over. “‘Nother lambchop here for the brooding one, please!”

 

* * *

 

After eating, the sky has darkened deeply. The clouds from yesterday’s rainstorm haven’t quite left them yet, but Gaius isn’t bothered by that now that they have a guaranteed roof over their heads.

He is surprised, though, that it’s still early in the evening when he feels tired all over again. It makes sense, given that he and Lon’qu have been up since early, early in the morning. Travel is always demanding on the body, a fact that Gaius thinks everyone forgets once in awhile when they don’t pay close enough attention. His muscles could use some sleep on any surface that isn’t the cold, stiff, ground, and even though he doesn’t think it often Gaius can’t help but realize that he’d love a bath. Now he regrets not using Chrom’s swimming pool-sized tub back when he had the opportunity to freeload.

Gwen offers them a room above the tavern, which Gaius politely declines for the both of them. This is a very quaint little bar, with a surprisingly satisfying lambchop dinner, but he isn’t sure it’s the kind of establishment they should be spending the night at on the Shepherd's dollar. Back closer to the center of town, Lon’qu finds them a nice inn that is up to both their standards and checks them in for the night.

If Gaius were aware of it, he would find himself oddly quiet for the evening. Standing patiently to the side while Lon’qu rents them a room, Gaius yawns into the back of his fist and tries to uncloud his thoughts.

There’s no doubt that since the war with Plegia, the roads are a lot less safe for common citizens. The financial demands of war on a nation can drive even ordinary people to do some sketchy things, let alone your average professional criminal. Gwen’s blacksmith could have encountered anything from one odd robber to stumbling in the path of some stealthy bandits. That’s not even considering the possibility of a shambling Risen getting to them.

Two fingers rubbing his temple, Gaius grimaces to himself. It feels like somehow he’s missing something here- he used to be so good at this, picking apart the facts and seeing the obvious truth where other people missed it, especially where his fellow criminals were involved. If he loses his edge, Gaius is shit out of the closest thing to a tactical advantage he ever had in the first place.

 

“You look sleepy.” A deep, familiar voice behind Gaius makes him jump, hopping around on his feet to see Lon’qu peer at him impassively.

“Me? Nah. I’m a regular night owl. You don’t usually see a lot of thieves dressed in all-black who don’t stay up late.” Gaius protests, and gently swishes his cowl around for affect.

Predictably, Lon’qu looks unmoved. Gaius might be tempted to keep his thoughts to himself, but at this point Lon’qu is really the only support that he has. The last arrow in his quiver, so to speak. Gaius’s arms fall to his side loosely, and the dark mood he’d been trying to stave off threatens to gnaw at him.

“I dunno. Just still thinking about Gwen’s missing friend, I guess.” Gaius rubs his eye with irritation. “Looking for whatever one thing took one guy out on the edge of town feels like a wild goosechase, doesn’t it? We might as well comb every village in Ylisse.”

Lon’qu’s arms are folded over his chest. He has a stray grass seed in his hair from earlier, and as he listens he tilts his chin a little as he seems to consider Gaius’s words. “Maybe so. If we don’t find anything, we can move on to the next village and start over. Lord Chrom must not have expected that we would waste our time trying to chase every stray pickpocket.”

“Yeah,” Gaius scratches his chin. Behind Lon’qu’s shoulder, some traveling merchants check in at the front desk. Ordinary business people, regular families. “Would be a shame, though. After all that talking up to that poor lady bartender.”

That earns him a long stare- not unusual for Lon'qu. This time, however, the period of silence is marked by the champion cocking his head to the side as his eyes hover over Gaius with alarming focus. Like some kind of confused puppy or weird bird. "You're surprisingly invested in this."

"What?" 

He shakes his head, seemingly brushing Gaius off even as the thief continues to leer at him suspiciously. “Forget it. You can’t do anything about it for right now, anyways. Get some rest.” Lon’qu gestures him towards a staircase off the side of the lobby, and Gaius follows up to a narrow, cramped, but carpeted hallway full of many doors.

 

With a heavy, brassy key, Lon’qu unlocks one of the doors, which rattles and seems to protest underneath his grip. Gaius wonders if maybe they should have taken Gwen up on her offer, as this place is the definition of ‘old-fashioned.’

The room opens up to reveal unpainted hardwood floors and walls, a meager writing desk and chair pushed into one corner, and a large, low bed adjacent to a double-paned window. Next to a shallow dresser, there is a thin and narrow door that Gaius presumes leads to a small water closet. Very basic, and very serviceable, though Gaius finds the utter lack of color or decor to be depressing. It reminds him of the plain, colorless tents he and the other Shepherds were afforded when on the road during the war. If there was room for personal artifacts at all, you had better hope they could be packed up and shipped across the country in five minutes or less.

Well. That wasn’t much of a problem for Gaius and his meager collection of earthly possessions. It was nice, at least, to have a place of his own to modify as he saw fit for once.

Back in the present, Gaius takes it upon himself to drop his pack on the floor, then immediately hop onto the bed and spread himself out against the covers. It’s a little stiff, but he’ll live. Propping himself up on his elbow and his hip, Gaius grins at Lon’qu in the doorway and puts his fist to his chin. “Only one bed? You sly dog. I’m gonna tell on you to Robin as soon as we get home."

Lon’qu frowns crossly, removing his bag to dump next to Gaius’s and then very, very carefully removing his belt to lay his sheathed swords on the top of the dresser. “I’m not surprised that you are the kind of person who assumes that two allies sharing one bed has to necessarily be lewd.”

“Yeowch. Did you just burn me?” Gaius’s voice floods with incredulity, putting his hands to his chest. He can’t help but notice that, in spite of Lon’qu’s words, the swordsman seems to have a difficult time approaching the bed while Gaius is splayed across it. Rather, he hovers across the floor in the dim shadows like a specter, and watching him is honestly a little unnerving. His eyes bore through the darkness at Gaius with unhampered concentration, rather like a cat.

 

Laying his arm down across his stomach, Gaius watches with consideration as Lon’qu idly investigates the desk of their meager, temporary abode. Maybe he’s thinking about writing something? Gaius has no idea. “At any rate, I know for a fact that you’ve shared a bed with someone before, even if that only other person is your little bed bug, so don’t lurk over there all night like you’re gonna catch something viral from me.”

“I suppose telling you makes no difference, but Robin isn’t the only person I’ve shared a bed with.” Lon’qu’s lip twitches, and it really should be illegal for one man to be such a tantalizing target for teasing. All of his reactions are utterly precious. “I’m going to bathe before bed. Do whatever you want.”

 

With that, Lon’qu vanishes into the bathroom, and Gaius finds it both curious and amusing that Lon’qu absconded without first removing his boots, coat, or arm coverings. Such an odd duck, that one.

Gaius takes this, a rare moment of peace and quiet to himself, to lie back on the pillow and fish a piece of candy out from one of the many compartments upon his person. His pockets are, of course, waterproof and very secure, so he has no fear about unwrapping a random confection and popping it into his gob.

It’s weird to think that for the past approximately 42 hours, Gaius and Lon’qu have been basically attached at the hip. As thief who is used to being on his own, it can still be pretty overwhelming for Gaius to be around people without occasionally scuttling off into his own corner of darkness. Hell, he could lay in Chrom’s lap for hours on end or sit in Robin’s lap over a nice, long, heavy tome, but sooner or later everyone needs some space.

And Gaius sure has… learned a lot about Lon’qu in the brief two days they’ve spent together. When he wanted to steal away on this life-changing field trip with the Grumpy Grump, Gaius didn’t know that he would inadvertently uncover a wellspring of childhood trauma. It feels like Gaius should be a little nicer to the big guy, except that A) he’s pretty sure that even one as emotionally constipated as Lon’qu can identify pity and will have absolutely none of it, B) dark humor and relentless mockery is how Gaius deals with his own wellsprings of trauma, so it’s kind of an ingrained behavior.

Gaius curls his knees up to his chest so he can undo the laces on his boots, listening to the quiet thud of them thumping dully to the floor. He twists on the bed to undo his cowl and toss that into a pile off the side. His fingers almost touch the laces of his gloves before he catches himself, palm closing on his forearm with certainty. This bed smells like dust, and that kind of stuffy smell a room just acquires when it’s been left to bake in the sun all day. It’s not a particularly bad smell at all. Kind of homey.

Eyes fluttering closed, Gaius hopes Lon’qu knows that his verbal sparring is all in jest. He hopes Lon’qu doesn’t value Gaius’s opinion enough to be hurt when Gaius can’t control his tongue or his temper. He hopes Robin knows they don’t have to fret on his behalf, because it makes Gaius feel guilty, and he hopes Chrom knows that when Gaius pokes fun at him for being all rich and important, Chrom isn’t the one Gaius is actually angry at.

He could go on, honestly, but if Gaius had to lie here and count all the people he owes an explanation of himself to, he’d probably never get anything else done. Head feeling heavy, Gaius wiggles his toes and enjoys the feeling of not being in damp shoes anymore. After a moment of wondering if Lon’qu will throw a fit about it, Gaius casts off his lightweight armor and shirt to the floor as well, then sinks as much of his body into the firm, unyielding mass of a stiff pillow as will fit.

 

In a state of half-sleep, Gaius has just enough consciousness to recognize a door being opened, and a hot wave of air blow into the room.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gaius watches Lon’qu circle around to the empty side of the bed, clad in nothing but his smallclothes. Even in the dark, and while keeping his illusion of being asleep, Gaius can see the way that mottled scars arc across Lon’qu’s skin in flashes of silver. Like craters on the surface of the moon, or ice between the cracks of stone.

Lon’qu’s beautiful, too, which is a fact that Gaius doesn’t mind noticing. Maybe it’s in long, fullness of his eyelashes, or in the tight tapering of his waist, or maybe just the fact that Lon’qu doesn’t seem to realize that there’s anything attractive about himself at all, but there’s something decidedly endearing about him.

Lon’qu slides into bed, and Gaius can feel the shift of the mattress beneath him as a much larger body than his own settles down. Gaius falls into a sleep that is thankfully dreamless.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day is spent looking high and low across the borderers of town for clues, or at least anything to justify a more depthy investigation.

What that mostly involves is a lot of walking around and exploring a very scenic countryside, but with a stellar lack of results. There’s a remarkable resemblance to when the Shepherds marched across the nations in pursuit of evil and such. Attacks from Risen and enemy armies are always on the mind, but it’s all fun and games until you pass out from exhaustion after marching in the Plegia heat for days on end.

 

“Anything?” Gaius asks, pulling himself out of a thick brush with burrs sticking to his trousers and cowl.

“No.” Lon’qu calls back, as empty-handed as when Gaius last left him.

The investigation is going just about as well as it sounds. He frog-steps out of a shrub, and tries not to think of whether or not he should report this lack of development to Gwen back at the tavern. “Right. Of course. Four hours out here, and it’s picturesque. Nothing more suspicious than a cow outside the barn. What do you wanna do?”

The closer Gaius gets to Lon’qu, the more pensive he looks. Gaius doesn’t want to assume that he’s considering how little Gaius wants to leave this business unfinished, but that just means that Lon’qu will have to be the pragmatist for both of them. “I think… if we are not finding anything suspicious around here, we may have more luck further down the road. Continuing to scour this area would only waste our time and energy.”

“Yeah, agreed.” Gaius presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth. There’s nothing else for it, of course. If every mystery could be solved just like that, there’d be no need for Shepherds in the first place.

So they restock their supplies, albeit with less care than the packs that Frederick prepared for them. And they stay goodbye to the village in exchange for the path ahead.

 

“I kinda wish we had thought to bring horses.” Gaius grumbles as they carve their way down the road. Further from the stone walkways and carefully trimmed gardens of Ylisse, the foliage is more overgrown here. The trail they walk is one created by stamped down weeds rather than dry dirt. “‘Three-village tour? No problem, Blue!’ That’s ol’ Gaius the Charitable for you. Completely forgot about the whole corns and bunions business.”

Lon’qu grunts in acknowledgement. “I didn’t think a thief would know how to ride.”

“Well, not professionally. Self-taught.” Gaius admits with a shrug. “They’re not the stealthiest things around, but I guess I just picked it up. Animals seem to be cool with me-” He remembers Cherche and her Minerva, as ‘affectionate’ a duo could ever be. “-Most of the time.”

“Hm.”

Gaius’s eyebrows rise under his bangs. He’s growing used to giving Lon’qu side-eyes, having to squint against sunlight as Lon’qu’s infuriatingly massive stature looms over him. “What, you don’t? I thought horseback riding was kind of a big thing in Chon’sin.

No expression crosses the mask of Lon’qu’s face, though his eyes flick down to Gaius’s. When they move in the sun like that, the dark, brown hue of them glint fast and red, like cherries or blood. “I wouldn’t know. In Regna Ferox, the snow tends to encumber horseback travel.”

“Ah.” Gaius forgot that whole ‘fleeing the homeland in shame’ kind of situation. “Right."

Intelligently, Gaius puts his thumb and his index finger towards his chin, in the universal sign of one who knows what they are talking about. “But I also heard you were pretty much the shadow of that Khan of your’s before Chrom dragged you away. I’d’ve guessed that all noble courts or whatever did some kind of riding.”

This time, when Lon’qu grunts, there’s a twinge of disgust in the corner of his lip that curls with it. “I told you- I’m no knight. And Basilio is no king. The politics of Ferox is a different beast than Ylisse entirely. It would be like comparing red to orange.”

Now, what Lon’qu is saying obviously has some important merit to it, and Gaius would take a nice, long opportunity to reflect on his own assumption that the hierarchical politics of two independent nations would be mirror images of each other. He cannot do that, of course, because there is something else pushing that part of his concentration out the window.

 

“You mean apples and oranges, don’t you?”

“What?”

“You can’t compare apples and oranges.”

“... Yes.” Lon’qu says with caution in his deep voice, looking at Gaius with an uncertain furrow of his brow. “That too.”

 

This man. How is Gaius going to spend the next however many days with this man? The redhead runs his fingers through his hair, and something important thoughtfully occurs to him.

“You know, maybe you should learn to handle horses some time.” Gaius says, straightfaced. “Even though you don’t look like it, I know you have a lot of personal experience with barebacking.”

 

The clueless, blank expression that Lon’qu gives him is delicious, and Gaius has to stop their trek to lean against a tree until he’s ready to move on. Nobody out here in this godless countryside could appreciate Gaius to the extent he deserves.

 


End file.
